Furinkan Future Diary
by Ezit Meti
Summary: Where better than Furinkan to beta test the ultimate game? After all, testing is supposed to take things right to their limits. Even though the future has already been written, it's not cast in stone.
1. Dear Diary

**I don't own either Future Diary or Ranma 1/2. But you probably already guessed that.**

**They say the future is what you make of it. In a strange way, that's true...**

* * *

A crack appeared on his face. It was a small one - barely the width and length of a pin- yet it held all the weight and significance of a neutron star. He gently rubbed it, and sighed wearily; it was the first sign of many yet to come.

"Something wrong?" said a small voice, just off to his left.

"Yes, I fear so," he said. There was no point in lying to her about this matter. She would no doubt see through it and badger him until he admitted what was happening. He leaned back, and gazed up at the machinery suspended from the ceiling. "I am dying. No, don't hold a funeral for me quite yet. I still have a little less than twenty years to go."

"But... but... but! You _can't _ die! You just... you can't! Who will take care of things? Without you, the universe will-"

"I know, Murumu. I know far better than even you what will happen when I finally pass on. This is why I must name a successor, before this time arrives."

The small, fairy like figure dashed about, backwards and forwards - almost as if she was pacing through the sky itself. "Oh, oh gosh! This is bad! Disastrous! Hurry up and pick a successor, then!"

"It is not that simple, you know." It really wasn't. Not even remotely. He couldn't just appoint anybody to this position. For many, the power was far beyond too much to handle. The consequences of seeing it all unfold out there, to look out and see innocent (or if not _actually _ innocent then at least decent enough and likeable) people die needless, painful deaths... And simultaneously seeing what would happen if you tried to save them. This job needed a soul of iron and a will of steel. Whoever sat in this chair had to be competent, capable of using the great power at their fingertips... their intentions mattered not. It wasn't so much a question of personality or ethics as it was dealing with the _pressure_. He was like Atlas, with an even heavier burden to bear. Atlas only had to carry the world in three dimensions... "If I am to select someone for this task, it must be with great care and consideration. It's not as if I can just interview them for the position."

"So... how _are_ you going to select your replacement?"

A very fine question, and one which he already knew the answer for. Or at least, he _would_ know the answer almost a year before his actual demise. A human with a rather sick bent would suggest the idea to him, and it was novel enough that he could go along with it. But it wasn't time for him to set up the game. Not yet. He needed more information, and he already knew how he would have to get it.

"I will set up... a game. The ultimate game for the ultimate prize," And the ultimate punishment, he mentally added. "It should be very interesting to watch it unfold... though I intend to test the mechanics of this game before implementing it properly."

"Eh? Test it? What do you mean?"

He smiled down at her. He knew too well that humans had a phrase they liked to use; God moves in mysterious ways. He did that, and for good reason. A simple human's mind could be described succinctly as being an open book. But the mind of a God? Possibilities and potentials lay out in front of you, any one of them being just as equally likely as any other you may deign to look at. A God can look down those roads, place themselves anywhere and any-when upon it, and observe. They could see the consequences of a butterfly's wing flap or a decision to turn left instead of right just as easily as a human could look through a window. Gods could taste the twists and turns of cause and effect like a fine wine, and then alter the ingredients once they were done savouring it. If a simple human could be described as an open book, then the mind of a simple God is like an Escher painting on a mobius strip. And yet, in spite of all that, the closer he got to his own death the more difficult it was to tell exactly what would transpire...

"We shall hold... a number of tests to ensure that all goes well with the course of this game. Yes, mere basic examples through which we shall observe the game unfold. From these observations, we can learn much about the shape and form of the truly ultimate game!" And it will also let the two of us have some fun in our final years together.

After thousands of years of service, he deserved that much.

* * *

Down in the streets of Furinkan, the winds of change were blowing. On this day, a series of events would begin that would forever change the lives of those that lived there. Usually, if not for the needs of a God, those winds would have been blowing a little over a month later, and would be accompanied by some light rain and a panda chasing a furious girl down the streets. Now instead of being the harbingers of the madness yet to come, the panda and the girl would be stepping directly into a game in which they could be little more than pawns.

None of this was anywhere near the mind of the young girl jogging towards her home - though if any of it were, one would be compelled to ask serious questions about the whereabouts of certain mystical items. Her thoughts dwelled on other simpler matters; tomorrow she would begin her school year, joining her elder sister Nabiki at Furinkan High School. So many questions buzzed around her head, and she knew that none of them could be so readily answered as asked. What could she expect over the course of the year? Would she make new friends? A boyfriend, perhaps? And what of the lessons? Would she be able to keep up with her homework? Pass her inevitable exams?

In short, Akane Tendo's head was filled with thoughts of the future. This would be trebly the case by the end of the day.

Fortunately for her, Kasumi - sweet, thoughtful Kasumi - had given her an outlet for her thoughts and feelings. In due course, she arrived home kicked off her shoes and hurried upstairs to make use of it. There, on her desk waiting to be used was a brand new diary. It may not have seemed like all that much, but then the best gifts never did. Thoughtfulness trumped expense nine times out of ten (though this statistic may alter depending on how shallow a person is). She sat down in her chair, flipped the diary to the very first page, grabbed a pen...

Ink spread across the page, forming into the shapes of words. In turn, those words became sentences, sentences became paragraphs, and before long the entire page was filled with text, all detailing Akane's day, as well as her thoughts and feelings about the day. It was all there, in black and white, expressed perfectly as though she had penned it herself.

In case you missed the implication of that last sentence, the pen Akane had been reaching for had not quite yet even so much as touched the page before the words appeared upon it, spreading like ripples in a pond. Almost as if by magic. Magic? Perhaps it was. Or, there may have been some other explanation. Maybe some form of invisible ink, which had gone wrong somehow? Or maybe it was all just a strange dream. A pinch to the arm disproved that theory. Or perhaps she had momentarily blacked out and written it all, forgetting that she had done so once she was done?

And then once she'd done that, had written in other details about events that hadn't happened yet. Like how Yuka wasn't able to meet up with her and Sayuri later on like they'd planned, or how Nabiki was going to tease her with high school horror stories, or -

This was insane. Definitely insane. Whether it was the circumstance or her, she couldn't quite tell yet. But _something_ was crazy in this room.

"Akane! Phone call!"

With another worried look back when she reached the door, Akane left her room and went downstairs...

* * *

On balance, the best Nabiki could say was that at least it was a warm day. The real trouble with the last day before school started up again is that it didn't really count as a holiday. Not really. It was far too close to even consider starting something new. New books, new games, new television shows... it wasn't worth the risk of getting too interested in them, in case it took longer than the rest of _today_ to get completed. There was nothing much else to do than prepare for tomorrow, which took all of (at _most_) half an hour. She was starving for entertainment, and there was none to be had.

But then again, if she couldn't find something entertaining to do she could always just make her own. Case in point, Akane was heading downstairs to take a phone call and she had an oddly worried look on her face. Perhaps her anticipation about her first day at a new school had turned to dread?

"Yuka?" Akane said, in an almost fearful tone of voice. Interesting. "Uh, no. Just... I had a feeling you would be calling." A feeling, hm? Nabiki knew her little sister well enough to spot the deepening concern inching across her face. A quick glance up, back upstairs... her room? How _interesting_.. Nabiki made a casual attempt to stroll upstairs, looking as nonchalant as possible - but the trouble with that was, one inevitably wound up attracting all the attention one was intending to avoid in the first place.

"Nabiki? Could you give me a hand?" Kasumi had asked in that ever so innocent-dripping-with-sugar-you-could-see-the-angelic-wings tone of voice she always did far too _damned_ well. "Not quite what I meant," she'd replied when Nabiki gave a slow applause. Grudgingly, defeatedly, Nabiki backtracked and went on to help her elder sister with whatever task she was about to invent to keep the pair of them occupied while Akane finished her phone call.

* * *

Leaning against the door to her room, Akane stared across at the desk and inched towards it as though expecting it to wake up and attempt to bite her hand off. The book lay open, still on the page she'd randomly opened it to, almost innocently beckoning her to read it again...

Alright, so that phone call from Yuka put paid to rest the notion that it was a product of her own imagination. That meant it had to be magic of some kind. She had encountered magic before. Like the time her father had been asked to look after a cursed mask of truth - which promptly attacked Nabiki, and stuck itself to her face for a full week. This kind of thing just _happened_ and you dealt with it and you moved on a little bit more experienced in such matters and a little bit wiser. The one thing every magical encounter she'd had up until this point had in common was the simple fact that there was always some kind of warning. Somewhere. It could be anything. Instructions attached to the side of it. A wary shopkeeper, unwilling to sell it to you. A priest that had been attending to it, or some other guardian that is supposed to protect the general public from the magical item in question(or vice versa). There was always _something_ to ward people off. Always a rhyme or a reason for it. It was almost like a rule of the universe, or something.

Yet there she was with a diary which seemingly filled itself in. And, hah! Even seemed to fill in precise events about your own future! Automatically! No need for a pen to express your thoughts and feelings in print, your future is already written for you!

Not to put too fine a point on it, but; This. Is. Insane!

_"I met Ranma's mother today. She seems nice, if a little unhinged..."_

And who the hell is Ranma? Well, there was an easy enough way to figure that out. Read the book from the beginning, see what it says about-

* * *

It hadn't taken quite as long as she had felt it had, on reflection. It turned out that Kasumi had wanted help re-organising the photo albums, a task that had been put off for quite some time. And for very good reason. The whole experience had been so tedious that Nabiki was giving some very serious consideration of attempting to bottle it and sell it as a cure for insomniac elephants. Alternatively, it could be used as a power source for a time machine since it made minutes seem like hours and the seconds seemed to tick by only because they had nothing better to do and even _they_ were bored out of their non-existent skulls.

The worst part was, when she was told about the favour there was a single fleeting moment where she had this sudden flash of insight where all the tedium struck all at the same time. Almost as though she had sent herself a message through time, warning her to turn back and run for the hills... And yet she had stayed. By her own will, she stayed to help her older sister and all because of that innocent smile. There wasn't even any insistence in her tone of voice. Just a quick"oh, would you be a dear?" and you could barely make her out after that because of all the harps being played by the cherubs following her.

But now, after half an hour of hell - she caught a yawn - she was free! Free to pester her little sister, and perhaps even find out just what had been bugging her. She raised her fist to knock on the door - always best to be polite when circling the prey - and then!

"HE DID **WHAT?** IDIOT! IDIOTIDIOTIDIOT!"

She counted off on her fingers... Four exclamation marks! Something must have really gotten to her just then. With a nod of her head, Nabiki made a sharp right turn, walked into her own room and closed the door with such grace that one would be forgiven for believing she was anything less than nervous. While the outburst was a curious one, it was probably for the best to obey those survival instincts kicking in right about now. Going into that room right then would have been like poking an angry bear to get it to turn around so you could throw a custard pie in its face. Sometimes, curiosity could _wait_..

* * *

A new day arrived and with it a new school year was dragged out of bed and dumped in front of a uniform. The students made their way towards school, none of them particularly eager to get there. The trouble was, each of them was possessed of the energy youth accumulates over an extended period of rest - and the consequence was that though they were all attempting to take their time they were moving a mite more rapidly than they were aware of. This problem would soon be rectified, as the school would no doubt sap their spirit completely by week's end; and this is some considerable time _before_ Miss Hinako would make an appearance there. She'd only make the process that little bit more efficient.

Among these students there were those new to the school. The fresh faced and nervous first years marched on their way towards their bright future! And yet, one of their number stood out. While she was nervous, like her peers, there was a different kind of energy about her. Perhaps it was due to her natural charisma - her tendency to draw attention, whether she wished it or not. Perhaps it was the contrast between the fearful nervousness of others from her year to her angrier, slightly paranoid nervousness. Or maybe it was the way she was desperately trying to keep herself out of sight, failing miserably all the while.

Those not particularly adept or trained in stealth find that when they really need to avoid attention, every single person in the vicinity becomes unduly and unfairly fascinated by their activities. It's a quirk of human nature, relating back to our curious nature. If a person nearby does something that seems almost designed to not catch our attention, then paradoxically it almost certainly will. With that attention comes curiosity, as the audience wonders just what that person is up to, who they are hiding from and why - and the best way to satisfy that curiosity is to just keep on watching, This is where the second paradox kicks in. Because in order for these observations to continue, it would be better if the attention avoider continued their failed attempts at stealth so they don't become embarrassed by all the attention, stop what they were doing and simply walk away. The observers are thus compelled to observe without being observed as observing. And the cycle begins anew...

Akane Tendo had the grave and contrasting misfortune of being excellently trained in martial arts - though not _quite_ as excellently as certain others she would shortly encounter - while having little to no experience in matters of keeping herself hidden from others. Akane takes to subtle like a fish takes to mountain climbing. Worse yet, as previously pointed out she has a natural tendency towards grabbing attention without exerting the slightest effort into it. If she was to play hide and seek against some strange embodiment of attention, and was able to catch a plane directly to the deepest and darkest parts of a jungle then she would find attention camped out in a tree slightly annoyed that it took her this long to get there. Thus while she was more than capable of dashing and darting between walls, postboxes, innocent passers-by and _not so innocent_ passers-by with remarkable speed and precision, she was still botching her stealth check.

"Can't let him see me," she thought, though she was blissfully unaware that everybody around her was casting glances in her direction. "If we never meet, he doesn't bug me evermore. If he doesn't see me, he'll have no reason to try and meet me." Because that was the problem with knowing your personal future. Even if you knew key events you'd like to avoid, often the causes of those events are left a mystery. As far as Akane knew, based on her diary entry, at some point during lunch she would encounter a very strange and obsessive boy from Nabiki's class. He would proclaim love at first sight, and seemed to live in a backwards world where "no" not only meant "yes", but "_hell yes_". This was attention she could do without. To think of it, this was attention she wouldn't inflict on her worst enemy - not that she had one. Yet. That would come later, apparently...

But this wasn't the time to think about events quite so far into the future. She'd have to do that later on, after school. For now her mission was simple; Stay down, stay hidden, and for heaven's sake don't let yourself get seen!

As she peered around the walls of the school - just making absolutely certain that no idiots were hanging around before going in - a hand touched her shoulder. "Akane?" came a familiar voice from behind her. Her response to this was to leap around into a defensive position so fast that a student walking past them felt mildly dizzy for reasons he couldn't explain. This student then glanced back, gasped in a moment of wonder, and made to approach Akane... only to get pulled back by the former captain of the Kendo club for important club duties.

Akane hadn't seen any of that, of course. She was currently face to face with her friends Yuka and Sayuri and she was standing there in a defensive position slightly embarrassed by the overreaction to a tap on the shoulder.

"Gee, Akane," Sayuri said, "I get that you're nervous about our first day of school, but this is a little..."

"Hold on there," Yuka interrupted. "It's a guy that's got you wound up, right?"

Yeah, Akane thought. But not the way you're thinking. Equating Kuno with those thoughts, just based on the things she'd _read_ about him? That made her pause for a moment out of fear she might throw up all over her friends if she opened her mouth. Luckily for her, the brief pause was all she needed as the first bell rang and they really did not have the time to consider continuing the conversation. The three dashed into school, not noticing they were being observed by a concerned older sister from an upper window...

* * *

Finally, mercifully, the lunchtime bell rang out over the school and the students all filed out of their classrooms to fulfil a rising hunger they'd only noticed as time began to slow down right about quarter to twelve.

Tatewaki Kuno was on a mission quite different from feeding his belly. This morning, he had the briefest chance to glimpse (in his own words) "a goddess" by the school gates. He did not have the chance to approach her, as other duties required his immediate attention. And what kind of man would he be if he allowed his heart to rule over his responsibilities? Although given her beauty, her fire, her spirit... it had been very tempting to disregard his duties, just this one time. It was too late to take back what had been, of course. What mattered was the future! And there she was, just the slightest glimpse of her ahead in the crowd, glancing around nervously while making very obvious attempts to keep herself hidden. It only made her all that more adorable! And then, she turned and seemed to notice him... and her face twisted into an emotion he couldn't quite place. It must have been love! Love at first sight! Yes, it all made sense now. She was a delicate flower, enchanted by his beautiful presence (damn his beautiful presence! How many hearts must it force him to break?). And yet, her natural shyness led her to avoid the object of her affections, as she humbly (incorrectly!) believed herself to be not good enough for him.

Drawing himself to an even straighter height, Kuno resolved to correct this misconception. The girl was not making it easy for him - she seemed somewhat adept at cutting through crowds, even if she can't quite manage to hide in one. Ah, but the pursuit merely made his heart all the fonder, and even more eager to finally catch up with her.

"Akane! Slow down!" some girl said to his beloved. Akane was her name? It fit perfectly. Akane the angel! He had to catch her before she soared away, back to heaven... After what felt like an eternity he finally pushed his way through the crowd, and heard a little more of their conversation as he approached.

"Honestly, what is with you today? Was Yuka right this morning? It's guy troubles, isn't it?"

"If that is true," he declared in his most flirtatious and charming(actually pompous and irritating) tone of voice. "Then let your troubles trouble you no longer! I am Tatewaki Kuno, and it would be my greatest pleasure if you would-"

"No. Piss off."

"Date.. with... I'm sorry, could you say that again?"

"What, is your hearing as lousy as your hair? I said 'No. Piss off'." With that, she turned back to her friends, and stormed off.

Kuno was only momentarily stunned before he realised that she was playing hard to get. He then took an action that was every little bit as bold as it was utterly moronic; He embraced Akane in his arms, and whispered in her ear "No need to play games, beloved. I am yours, now and forever."

In that moment, Akane's battle aura flared up - causing everybody in a mile radius of the pair to suddenly- and in many cases for no reason readily apparent to themselves -suddenly take a great big step _away_ from where she was standing as though they'd just overheard that a metric ton of nuclear waste had been dropped in that very area. Kuno, being Kuno remained oblivious and thought that her shyness had simply transferred itself into a terrifying battle aura of death. He also remained completely oblivious to the lack of a connection between these two thoughts, though to be fair he _was_ very unconscious two seconds later after Akane performed a picture perfect Harai Goshi which caused him to fly much like a dodo with a jetpack clear into the wall surrounding the school grounds. To correct any misconceptions laid by the previous sentence, "into the wall" does not mean he hit the wall and bounced off. It meant he hit the wall's surface and continued moving for just the slightest fraction of a second longer.

As Akane and her friends walked off, Kuno fell off the wall for a nice and well deserved nap on the ground. Shortly after this, the newly formed Repairing Club rejoiced in its first job. In minutes the somewhat deep indentation in the wall was fixed up, good as new, all cracks filled in. Perfect. As they began to leave, they suddenly realised that the footstool they were standing on was actually a quite unconscious boy they should probably have taken to the infirmary.

Curiously, Akane's friends didn't question her any further about her strange behaviour, which had ceased after the encounter with Kuno.

* * *

Nabiki looked at the bandage wrapped around Kuno's head with no small amount of curiosity. It had been bugging her since lunch, but she hadn't the opportunity to speak to him about it until school ended. She'd felt the battle aura, since she _had_ done some basic training in the art so many years ago. But she wasn't skilled enough to tell anything other than whoever it was happened to be so angry that they'd probably march up to a rampaging lion in their path and end up scaring it off. It didn't take much logical thinking to realise it was either Kuno or the person that beat him up, and she was betting(internally only) on the latter.

"I guess you brought me here to find out a little more about whoever did a number on you."

"Ha! You have no romance in your soul! Assuming that you have one, of course. I was not attacked, as you seem to believe."

"So, I suppose the nurse spontaneously started bandaging your head after you randomly fell asleep in the infirmary."

Kuno glared at her, and she smiled innocently back. It would've fooled most others, but Kuno knew her better. "This is but a love tap, from a shy girl - no! Angel! A shy angel that descended from heaven and in response to my embrace -"

"Kicked your ass, knocked you out and probably stormed off to find something to bathe in. Right. So who is the unl- I mean, _lucky _girl?"

"I heard her friends refer to her as Akane. Oh dear, it would seem that you have some yen signs attached to your pupils. You should probably get that looked into."

"Ah, never mind that," Nabiki said while rubbing her eyes. "Uh, just to make certain... she had dark hair with a bluish tint and was wearing it in a ponytail way down her back?"

Kuno sighed, and stared at a point slightly above Nabiki's head. "That's her... my angel, oh will I ever know your full n- My goodness, you really should get that looked into soon. Those yen signs seem to be getting bigger!"

Well. Sometimes, one doesn't need to search for opportunity. Sometimes, it is dumped into your lap and gives you a great big _hug_..

"I may be able to find a little more, uh, detail about your angel if you'd like. Of course, research isn't exactly cheap..."

A large wad of bills materialised on the table. She pocketed the lot, and said "You appear to have developed an infatuation for my little sister," she said,

"Your sister! That is quite unbelievable! Though, I do sense some poetic justice at work here - no, make that at play. A devil being related to an angel has a strange poetry to it, don't you think?"

"Yes, quite. Ah, I may be able to get a few pictures here and there if you're interested in buying?"

"Nabiki Tendo! Is there no depth low enough for you to avoid sinking into? Selling me pictures of your own sister? How soon can you arrange this and how much?"

She took a moment to bask in the feeling. Not only was this going to be a lot of fun to watch play out from a distance, but she'd be making money hand over fist. Her future was looking bright.

* * *

As soon as school had finished, Akane had gone straight home and up to her room. Her objective of the day had been an abject failure - she hadn't avoided meeting Kuno and the idiot was almost certainly going to issue the stupid challenge in spite of her trying to -

She glared down at the diary in front of her. Something _had_ changed, it seemed. Originally, she had politely declined Kuno's invite thought the matter resolved. Then each day after that he'd come back, and ask again just a little bit more forcefully each time... politeness only stretched so far. Originally, it would have been Thursday that Kuno would have been pounded into the dirt, and on Friday the challenge would be laid down.

Instead it was happening _tomorrow_. At least, according to the diary. A brief skip ahead indicated changes to some other entries, though she only noticed very minor alterations here and there... Which meant the book was updating to whatever her future was _now_ instead of simply telling her of the future that would be. She swallowed. This was already big enough, but now? It was positively _huge_.

"Yes, number one... But it is a fair bit larger than you seem to realise."

She hadn't heard the door open. Which didn't seem to matter much once she noticed that the window by her desk wasn't there anymore. Slowly raising her head, and turning around, Akane suppressed the urge to scream that was aching to get its way out of her lungs. She wasn't in her room, for certain. It was some kind of dome, and though she would swear the walls were little more than ten feet away she couldn't see where they met the floor. She reasoned that the dome had to be so big, after all there was a _giant sitting in an equal y large chair right there in the middle of the room!_ He seemed to be playing with switches or levers of some kind, which were connected to something in the ceiling... More movement caught her eye then, as she saw there were eleven shadowy figures around the room, each with a number engraved at their feet. Looking down, she saw the number one.

The impossibly huge creature spoke up then, and its voice managed to echo around the room in such a way that it felt like it originated at every point within it. "My name is Deus ex Machina, God of Time and Space..." Deus boomed as he leaned forward in what could only be described as a near malevolent grin. "And now that you're all here, it's time I explained a few things..."

* * *

**Next Time: Deus explains the game!**


	2. Deus Exposition Machina

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own either.**

**Warning: Fanon ahead. But don't worry, it's only there because I think it makes the story more interesting.**

* * *

The human mind is a remarkably powerful and versatile tool. Its purpose is simple, though its method in carrying it out is still largely unknown to us. No two minds are made the same, yet many make unfair comparisons between themselves and others. To some, it is a product of neurons and chemicals in the brain. Others claim it as something deeper, perhaps equated with the soul. But they all get the purpose wrong. They all believe it is to do with developing a clear and personal identity - this is putting the cart so far ahead of the horse that it's already arrived where it was going, and what do you even really _need_ the horse for anyway?

The mind exists to keep us sane. This may seem a tad circular, as it may be pointed out that we could only possibly be insane should we happen to have a mind. This line of thinking is, at best, narrow as it assumes the only states that can exist for conscious beings are "sane" and "insane". There are realms, murky and in-between which happens to fit where most ordinary people sit quite happily - and then there are realms further afield where people are no longer insane and we have to develop new words for them. Imagine if The Joker encountered Cthulu, and you'd manage to simultaneously have a pretty darn awesome mental image, and a decent idea of what I'm talking about here. The mind exists to keep us from going too far into the other direction, where we become _so_ sane that it's not really likely we'll have a will to live for much longer. Why's that? Well, if you really put any real thought into reality, just for a moment and took it all in at once... that kind of clarity simply isn't healthy. The mind is our filter, to keep the bad stuff from simply overwhelming us. Our personality is our shield from reality, permitting us to look at it from a particular perspective without wanting to leap off a tall building shortly thereafter.

This is the purpose of the mind, and it is rather good at its job. It's also rather good at hiding its job from itself, as I sincerely believe the majority of readers are now chuckling away at the notion that our minds are built to keep us from going too sane - perhaps you're thinking about Jane or Bob next door, whose mind is a little _too_ effective at its job. Perhaps you see several obvious flaws in the reasoning laid out above. This is fine, so long as you can accept it is the case in this little tale... For there are a few things that the mind cannot properly filter, when confronted with.

The first is certain knowledge of the future. The second is being transported against your will to a large room with a thirty foot tall - _while seated _-being claiming to be God. As twelve people were now discovering, the latter in particular has an effect on the mind akin to teleporting a man from the sahara to the Arctic.

The God-like being in question crouched over, smirked a little, and said "To answer your next three questions in a single statement, I am the God of Time and Space."

Suddenly, the shadowy form with the number seven under him recovered from the shock and began yelling indignantly. "Hey! Hold on! Who are you? WHAT are you? How did you get... us... Uh..."

"I was just about to explain when you so rudely interrupted. And no, this is the most fun I've had in a while."

"So what do you want with- Hey! Will you stop doing that?"

"If you're quite done," Deus said while drawing himself to his full seated height - an extremely impressive sight. Awe inspiring may be a better term to use, in the sense that it inspired each of them to try and develop new words for the levels of reverence, respect, dread, and wonder they reached upon this sight. "I will now begin my explanation for why I have brought you here."

"Awesometastic..." Akane heard number nine mutter under her breath.

"To begin with, each of you has a diary in your possession, yes? It began predicting the future recently, in very specific ways."

There was a hush around the room then, as the twelve all glanced nervously at each other, each wondering just what this mighty being had planned... Although on consideration, compared to Deus and his booming voice a marching band could walk right through the room and still be called a "hush".

"This is a game of sorts that I have set up. The rules are simple. All you have to do is destroy each other's diaries. The winner gets a wish, any single desire that they want granted... so long as it is within my rather vast power, of course."

A chuckle rose from number eight after a moment. "Now I understand why you have seen fit to hide my beautiful face from the other players. Part of the game is identifying the other players without being identified ourselves, yes?"

"And I think he's using a voice filter to disguise our voices..." number five mumbled. Or at least, he'd tried to. The voice filter and the dimensions of the room caused the sentence to echo, and everybody heard it with perfect clarity.

"Well, that's all fine for all of you!" shouted number ten - and it was now dawning on Akane just how much of human communication depended on non verbal cues, and how difficult it was to properly read them when the other person is a shadowy blob. "But I have no need of wishes! All I want is to be sent back! I was in the middle of something really impor-"

"I apologise for the interruption, my dear..." said number six. "I agree with your point. Any single thing in this world that I desire, I can take without the assistance of a God - so long as he doesn't deign to interfere _against_ my desires, of course. There is nothing you can tempt me with to play your little game, but thank you for-"

A wicked grin cast its way across Deus' face. "Are you sure about that? What do you suppose the others are thinking? A wish granted by a God... their minds are filling with so many possibilities, so many things they absolutely must have at all cost...their hearts all know what they truly want. Are you saying you'll gladly throw away knowledge of your own future?"

Number ten fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. "I can do this without... but it'll help speed things up. It's too useful to surrender! If any of you tries to take it from me, I'll beat you into the dirt!"

A loud "Hah!" came from number four. "I'd like to see you try."

"Oh, you think you're a big shot?" asked number seven. "You have no idea what _I'm_ capable of, you skinny little-"

"That is quite enough, thank you! Now, should any of you have any questions about the game - except for questions about other players, of course - you need only ask them while you have your diary in your possession. I'll bring you here, answer it, then send you back to where you were without missing a second. I will also summon all players back here whenever an elimination occurs, to announce who has been eliminated."

"Excuse me, Mister... Ex Machina? How are we to locate each other? The world is a large place, and -"

"Have no fear of that, number eleven. You are all either in or heading to the exact same location, and I estimate that you will all be there within the next six months. You'd have arrived there later, but my predictions reveal this game will move you there far quicker. Number ten, you were worried about losing time? Do not be concerned, dear - I will send all of you back to where and when you were when I grabbed you. Goodbye, and see you all soon!"

Twelve flashes of light later, and they were gone.

"Who's gonna win, Deus?"

"My dear Murumuru, after all this time have you still not learned that lesson?"

"What lesson?"

"A game is far more interesting when you don't know how it will turn out in advance."

He turned back to his endless, tireless work... and completely missed the smirk that appeared on his little assistant's face.

* * *

On balance, Akane decided that the last two days were ever so slightly out of the ordinary. After all, it wasn't every day one got to meet an honest to god God. She sat in the chair, back in her room again, staring at the diary as though it had just winked at her. Here was something she had intended to use as a means to improve her life - avoid unnecessary woes, prepare herself and those close to her for problems yet to come - but now she was part of a game. One of twelve with knowledge of events yet to come, who would try to find each other and destroy their diaries...

It was a little much to take in, and she knew she should be coming up with a game-plan. The only trouble was, where could she possibly start? She knew nothing about her opponents, what they could do what they _would_ do, where they were right now, when she would encounter them - though Deus had seemed sure that the game would last six months, that was a long time in which an encounter could occur. Should she head on out, ignore the game and let them come to her? Should she lay low, let things play out as they will, and try to watch out for anybody else that might have a diary? Or perhaps somewhere between these two extremes? Going purely offensive or defensive invited disaster... but what should the balance be?

To herself, and to an unbiased observer the problem may seem to be one of indecision - so many avenues of approach to take, regarding the game. But it was worse than indecision. A small and frightening dose of reality had crept into her mind during that meeting. How could it not? The God of Time and Space, well, you can't get much closer to the core of reality than that. Not without actually being said God, at least... But the point is, this is the effect of reality on your typical, average person. When one becomes aware of the sheer scale of options available, when one becomes capable of noticing the potential success and failure in each action, that things happen nobody could ever account for and to the scale this is true... A little too much reality, and the mind can enter a live-lock. Constantly playing out scenarios, but never taking the risk on performing any. It comes down to personality and determination to get anything done. In truth, each of the diary holders were currently engaged in the same, or at least a very similar dilemma... and they all came to a similar resolution once their brief flirtation with pure reality wore off.

"I start by reading ahead," Akane finally concluded as she turned the page. "I didn't read _all_ of it yesterday... There might be something I didn't see further ahead."

She turned the page, thought for a moment... and then grabbed a spare notebook. If this diary changed, she had to take _notes_.

It was about an hour later that Nabiki finally made her way through the front gate following her meeting with Kuno. There was a spring in her step, and yen signs in her eyes. And why shouldn't there be? A few carefully shot pictures of her sister, and Kuno would gladly fork over miniature fortunes piece by piece. All she had to do was find Akane and-

"STUPID, THOUGHTLESS, COWARDLY, SELFISH, IDIOT!"

Well, that was easy. She was in the dojo, working off five exclamation marks worth of fury. Against her better judgement, and her screaming survival instinct, she poked her head inside and saw that her baby sister was standing opposite a large wooden pole, occasionally delivering unto it terrible and mighty blows which were as fast as a cobra and as powerful as a tank. Nabiki felt her feet begging to be any other place than here - with the notable exception of anywhere actually inside the dojo - but managed to resist the impulse for now, still acting against her own better judgement.

"HOW COULD HE DO THIS?" Akane yelled, with another flurry of brutal strikes at the amazingly resilient pole. "HOW COULD HE BE SO-"

"And who exactly got _you_ so worked up, hm?" And with that question, Nabiki's better judgement went on strike. It then proceeded to point and laugh at the rest of her brain when Akane turned around, bleary eyed as though she was near tears - and yet beneath _that_ was a piercing gaze of anger just daring the world - the whole wide world all at once, just you dare and try something.

"So, spill. What's the matter? You'll feel better talking it over, rather than beating up some poor wooden stick."

"Uh, it didn't start as a stick," Akane said, making a poor attempt at discretely wiping her eyes, "It was just holding up the straw dummy I'd set up... It kind of fell apart." As she looked around, Nabiki noticed that yes, there was a rather undue amount of straw lying on the floor. Akane's face seemed a great deal calmer now - breathing exercises et al - but Nabiki knew her little sister. Something was eating away at Akane, and frankly it was annoying not knowing know what it was. "It's just, uh, some idiot at school trying to get fresh. That's all."

Nice little lie, but again she knew her little sister. Besides which, while getting to know Kuno was a lot like pouring hot wax over your skin and rubbing it off with sandpaper, he couldn't have possibly enraged Akane to this point over the course of _one_ conversation. Well, okay, if he'd "gotten fresh" then she'd have been furious. But tears? Those were _recent_.. They'd met at lunchtime, and Akane suppressed emotions like a balloon suppressed a tank - no way she'd have kept all this bottled up all afternoon.

And yet, she knew her little sister. Confrontation was something she thrived on, whether she wanted to or not. Point out that she's lying, and she'll clam up or invent a more convincing one. Or, if she was feeling particularly cunning, distract you with a heated argument. Pointing out that she was lying wouldn't help figure out what had gotten her so upset - not if she didn't want to talk about it. _Especially _if she didn't want to talk about it.

"That would be Kuno, right?" Nabiki asked, already knowing the answer. Akane nodded, hesitantly. "Yes, I thought it might've been. The way he was talking this afternoon, I'm afraid he might be a bit smitten. Like it or not, he's going to be bothering you again in the future."

Akane walked past her then, and said "I know, Nabiki. And I'd appreciate it if you'd help get rid of him."

With her back to her sister as she left the dojo and went back into the main building, Nabiki rolled her eyes and smirked with nobody to see her do so. Stop Kuno from pursuing a romantic interest? There'd be better luck in stopping Nabiki from pursuing money... Though not by much.

* * *

Soun was concerned. It was now morning, and he sat there looking out into his garden thinking about his youngest daughter's reaction yesterday. She'd seemed slightly panicked at first, when she got home. Went straight to her room, stayed there for a little while, then stormed out in her training gear and set up a straw doll. This doll would then have the stuffing kicked out of it, while she yelled insults at it for reasons which were as much a mystery to himself as they were to Kasumi. Neither of them wanted to approach her, as something had clearly managed to upset the poor girl and she had to deal with it in her own way. When she was ready, she'd talk.

But still, he was deeply concerned. One of the main aspects of the Tendo School was the use of your own emotions as a weapon in battle. There were two primary ways to do this. Project your emotion through a battle aura - which all three of his daughters had been trained to do at a young age - to intimidate or distract your opponent. An effective technique, if used strategically. But then, if you were at that point in an emotional sense in the midst of battle, you probably weren't thinking too strategically to begin with.

The other use was more concerning. Instead of projecting the emotions outwards into a battle aura, it was very possible to channel the raw emotion a different way - temporarily boosting your strength or speed to incredible heights. While Akane had shown some natural ability with this particular ability, she preferred not to rely upon it. Which was good. What wasn't so good was yesterday's reaction to... whatever had set her off. The sooner Akane felt like talking about it... ah, there she was now! Returning from her morning jog.

He smiled at her and said, "Hello, Akane! A beautiful day, isn't..."

The sentence never finished, for then he happened to make eye contact. In her eyes, he saw something he had never thought he would ever see from the outside.

"The Medusa Gaze!" he thought, for his entire body had frozen in place. "The ultimate demon's head aura... condensed emotion into the eyes, one can paralyse any opponent with a single gaze!"

Alongside this realisation came a sudden and terrible drop into a sea of emotional turmoil. On one side he was buffeted by the current of sheer terror, caused by the technique itself. On another, pride that she had figured out how to do this without his assistance... and on the last side, he was assailed by horror at the realisation that, for whatever reason, she was feeling all that emotion because of _him_. The technique wouldn't work properly otherwise.

He sat there for about ten minutes more before Kasumi noticed he was frozen in place. She checked his pulse and his breathing, sighed in relief and then helped him to his feet... and guided him towards Doctor Tofu's clinic. Within a minute of arrival, his scream of anguish mysteriously cured the people nearby of whatever ailed them. Why else would they suddenly proclaim they felt a good deal better and should probably go home?

* * *

In the middle of the school ground, there stood a defiant, determined and dignified boy of seventeen years old. He stood tall, proud, waiting vigilantly. Patiently yet eagerly. Gazing out through the front entrance for any sign of his beloved with his bokken by his side.

"Hey, hey," a voice whispered to a nearby friend, "What's with him?"

"I dunno," the friend replied in similarly hushed tones. "I think he's putting on a play, or something."

"Eh? A play? What sort of play?"

"Oh, you know. A historical play, with a samurai standing guard at the school against a lone threat..."

"I will have you all know!" Kuno declared, striking his bokken in what he thought was a dramatic gesture, "That on this day, I pursue the heart of a firey tigress! Today, I intend to prove myself worthy of dating one Akane Tendo!"

As the other students whispered and muttered amongst themselves, a new figure appeared and said"Oh, really Kuno?" said Nabiki. "And how do you intend to do this?"

"Simple enough, my dear! Now hear this! I shall permit no other terms! Akane Tendo will date only whoever has defeated her in battle!"

"Uh... which girl is Akane again?"

"It would be the shy first year with a slightly bluish tinge to her hair."

"You mean the hot one that seemed kinda nervous yesterday? Like she was trying to dodge out of everybody's sight?"

"The very same!"

Somehow, in the minds of the male students present, Kuno's proclamation was woefully mistranslated. Each of them came to an incorrect assumption that what Kuno had said was "If you beat Akane, she's yours." As they were all not only boys, but _teenage_ boys who have mostly never had a girlfriend before... this seemed like the jackpot offer on a game-show. And all they had to do was "defeat" one nervous, cute chick to get themselves a girlfriend.

As such, they all lined up in front of Kuno. He found this annoying, but he let them remain in place if they so desired. His future was with Akane Tendo. Of this, he was certain.

And there, just down the street, he could see the silhouette of his beloved charging at them. The crowd moved forwards as one...

* * *

Many people make reference to the boiled frog anecdote. Businesses use it to explain why customers accept gradual changes as opposed to sudden and large ones. Political pundits use it for any of a variety of reasons - typically in the same vein as the sometimes fallacious"slippery slope" argument. I intend to make use of this anecdote here, purely in a metaphorical sense; but would like to take the time to point out that frogs do not, in fact, behave the way usually described. Modern biologists, perhaps in a pique of cruel boredom, saw fit to perform experimentation to determine the veracity of this myth - and found it wanting. This may tell us a little more about biologists than it may about frogs.

As far as Akane Tendo had been concerned, it was a decent enough life. Sure, a few challengers came by now and then - a few minor incidents with magical items or ghosts, or what have you. She was a martial artist in training - this kind of thing was to be expected. If she were to take over the dojo she had to be mentally and physically prepared for such oddities.

Except she wasn't to take over the dojo. Her father had promised a friend of his that his son would marry either her or one of her sisters, and then it would belong to some boy named Ranma that none of them had ever met. The curse didn't help. Nor did her method of discovering the existence of the curse. She would get angry now and then, but would slowly acclimate to the new situation. Given time.

Of course, _our_ Akane here had read all about this much two days ago. She had gotten angry about it, yelled about it, let the frustration out... but hadn't read much further than this. Yesterday, she had read on. And what did she see?

She saw the arrival of Shampoo and of Ukyo. Fighting her for the affections of a boy she hadn't yet met. She read about how she got used to that to some degree. She read about the arrival of Happosai, and how her father was justifiably terrified of the old man, let him stay in the house and do whatever he wanted with no seeming drawbacks. She read of his stupidity with the Gambling King which nearly cost them their house. She read about lies, manipulation, betrayal and attempts to force her into a relationship she _plainly wasn't ready for yet._

In the original time-line, it's impossible to state that Akane remained a centre of calm throughout the events around her. But there, she had the time to digest what had happened between events. There, she had time to return to a state of relative calmness and let the frustration abide. She could almost but not quite adjust to what was happening around her. Now? She could see it all, in black and white, one horrible event after the other with no time to let her calm return in between. It built up and built up, and yet none of it was directed towards any of the people she hadn't met yet. Well, perhaps a _little_ of it was. But then, the truth of the matter is she didn't know these people yet. She had nothing to go on but the limited space written within the confines of a number of diary entries, which could scarcely cover every single detail. How could she harbour a strong emotional reaction to people she hadn't met yet? It's the people you love and care for that cut you the worst. And the more Akane looked it over, the more two in particular kept on sticking in the knife just when she thought she could trust them.

Nabiki, for starters, would follow the money. Selling pictures to Kuno, that was just the tip of the iceberg. Akane felt as safe trusting her with a secret - like say a future predicting diary - as she would in a small shack full of dynamite, while she was holding a lit match and doused in kerosene. No, can't tell Nabiki. Can't get her help on this issue.

And then there was her father. Her stupid, stupid _stupid_ father! The engagement was bad enough. Not warning them about Happosai, or even doing anything about the old letch... forgiveable since he's so powerful (apparently). Then there was the Chardins, the hopeless attempts at manipulating her and Ranma into a relationship neither of them was ready for, the lies, the betrayal, the outright selfishness... It just went on. And on. _And on_.

Oh, but don't get her wrong! She was plenty angry at this Ranma character as well, though her feelings about him were... conflicted. So many of the entries after a certain point revolved around him, after all. Some were good, and he came off as a bit of a jerk with a heart of gold. Others made it seem like his heart was missing that day. But simply put, she didn't really know him yet. She knew her father, she loved him _now _and trusted him _now _and this was how he was going to treat her in response to that. She and her sisters deserved more, better than - than... They just deserved better, is all. If he found out about the diary, he'd try to use it to make the engagement go smoother, get them to the altar that little bit quicker and damn how either of them felt about it! No chance. If she and Ranma _did_ get married, it would be _their_ choice. Not his. He'd made enough bad decisions already and giving him knowledge of the future wasn't likely to be a good thing for anybody.

And since Kasumi would probably try to talk the whole family into work together on this, she was out too.

She was alone. And it hurt. And it showed in her eyes, which were reflecting the perfect demon's head. The Medusa's Gaze.

The frog hopped out of the water.

* * *

Ah, the Medusa's Gaze may be a point of confusion for some people. Before we continue, it would be best to explain precisely what it is, and how it works.

The normal "Demon's Head Technique" permits a person to impose an additional level of intimidation in their battle aura, inciting a great deal of fear in the target of the attack. The main weakness of the technique is that it can only be used to intimidate and distract the opponent, and cannot inflict harm by itself. Worse yet, the technique can only be used when the would be user is sufficiently emotionally upset at the target, rendering what could be an overwhelming technique somewhat less useful than it might otherwise be. Still, the technique has its uses... and in an all out fight that can make all the difference.

The Medusa's Gaze, meanwhile, is the perfect form of the technique. To gaze into the eyes of one that uses this technique is not to know fear, but to know horror in its purest form.

But what is the difference? Fear and terror, surely these are synonyms for the same emotion? Well, no. Not even close. Fear strikes at the mind, and depending on the intensity of that fear the mind may fight back and resist it. Heroes are born out of moments when people are afraid and take action anyway. Fear can be prepared for. Fear can be defended against. Fear makes you wary, but you can still act against it.

Horror , on the other hand... Horror bypasses the mind and all its brilliant defences and strikes right at the very core of a person's being. Against horror, there is no defence. Against horror, your mind simply shuts down and operates on instinct. And that instinct will scream and shout "get away from here right now!" at the very top of its lungs.

Akane knew none of this. She had no idea that right now, she was so far past the other side of fury that she'd come right back to calm - the perfect state of being to initiate the Gaze. She had no idea that anybody that met her eyes felt a sudden and terrible urge to not be there any more.

But she did know that at her school, Kuno had just made the proclamation. She knew that this day, for the first time, she'd have to fight her way into school. She knew they were all just stupid perverted little immature boys thinking they had a shot at her and it all just made her. So. Very. Mad.

She could see them all now, charging towards her, with the unmistakable glint of lust in their eyes... and then the front row stopped in their tracks, digging in their heels, and ran all that much _faster_ in the other direction. The boys formerly behind them looked confused for a moment until they got a clear enough look and before long the entire crowd was tripping over itself to not be outside by the time she got there. They managed it, save one holding out a bokken who was completely frozen in place. "Such... ferocity..." he mumbled. In Kuno's case, fear would not have affected him since his mind has the automatic "slightly mad" defence... but horror certainly worked wonders on him as it would anyone else.

As such, Kuno was completely rooted in place when Akane ran straight through the school courtyard with her arm extended, leading her to perform a leaping clothesline which hit with the force of a freight train. Kuno flipped in the air, still unable to move under his own power, and found himself caught in a fireman's carry moments before Akane bent her knees and leaped four feet in the air.

"GO!"

At the apex of the leap, she flipped Kuno off her shoulders.

"TO!"

As the pair fell back to earth, Akane grasped Kuno's head and guided it downwards...

"SLEEP!"

They landed, Akane in a kneeling position and Kuno with his face introduced to Akane's extended knee at a great and terrible speed. Against the laws of common sense, the ferocity and impact of the move caused a small crater to appear around where Akane landed...

And then the effect of the Medusa's Gaze all wore off, Akane stretched, yawned, decided that she felt a heck of a lot better now and went inside the building. Although the Gaze was no longer there, replaced with a friendly smile, every single person in the school made sure to steer clear of her.

Meanwhile, the Repairing Club rejoiced again, and discussed whether they should count Kuno as a member as they pulled him out of the crater and filled it in. They decided not, as people may find it suspicious that he was involved in the causation of the majority of their repair work.

* * *

Later, it was a much more stunned Nabiki that made her way home. Akane was the talk of the school. They all said she was a demon girl, out to put curses on anybody that looked at her funny. Some of them even paid Nabiki to do what they could to protect them from her.

And yet, in spite of that... In spite of being sent to the infirmary twice in as many days for his efforts... Kuno still wanted to date Akane. It was Nabiki careful and deliberated opinion that the past two days had been a great big heaping does of _what even the hell _?

The root cause of this was pretty clear. Her little sister was acting outright weird. Well, no more games. No more hiding behind lies. No subtle attempts to find out what the hell was going on. Today, she was going to confront her little sister and drag the answer out of her kicking, screaming, to the daylight and there was not a single thing that could change her-

"Oh, hello Nabiki! Do you like my haircut?"

Nabiki stared at her, and twitched slightly.

"Uh... Akane... You- your hair is in a bowl cut!"

"Yeah, I think it suits me better. What do you think?"

"But-but... Weren't you growing it out for... I mean..."

"Oh, you mean that silly little crush on Doctor Tofu?" Akane sighed, "I'm over that. He won't look at anyone besides Kasumi. You know that."

And then she left. Just like that. Nabiki watched her go, and figured... well yes, it actually did suit her better. But that wasn't even the point! Was this what was eating Akane? Or was this just another symptom?

Nabiki couldn't dare speculate... She had no idea what the future held.

* * *

**Next time: Ranma finally makes an appearance in this fic! Also, we get to meet another diary holder! Who could it be?**

**Author's Note: The move Akane did to Kuno is based on an actual wrestling move called Go To Sleep. The two main differences being, there's no jump and rather than dropping the opponent onto a dropped knee, the knee is lifted as the opponent falls into it in a fast kick motion. The move was invented by KENTA, who started wrestling in 2000 - which makes Akane's use of it here something of an anachronism, since this piece is supposed to be set in the late 80s.**


	3. A Challenger Appears

**Ranma ½ is Rumiko Takahashi's**

**Future Diary/Mirai Nikki is Sakae Esuno's**

What I find amazing is how much I love both series, and how different they are to each other. So very different, yet both so awesome.

* * *

On balance, Ranma had to rank this as the single worst week of his entire life. Sure, the top spot of his worst days list was the permanent residence of a certain day involving a certain pit filled with certain ravenous beasts with beady eyes, sharp claws, pointier fangs and hisses that would make the devil himself suddenly _very wary of what was happening around him_.. That was a given, a certainty, QED. But then, if he were to take a look down the rest of that list, he would almost certainly find that the numbers 2, 6 and 7 were filled by days of this week. And it was only Wednesday. When you're halfway through a week, and can put three of those days squarely in your top ten worst days list... well, that week ranks pretty darn high on the worst week scale if one thinks about it.

His thoughts were interrupted by his father then. "You seem to be focusing on something, boy. Care to talk about it?"

"Not much pop," Ranma groused. "This week sucks, is all."

In response, Genma nodded his head like some profound and terrible truth had been uttered, and left it at that. This really had been a spectacularly bad week - for both of them honestly - but _especially_ Ranma. Things had first gone horribly wrong when they reached a "mysterious and dangerous training ground." Yeah, it was dangerous alright. Not for the reasons Genma had been hoping for, where one tests ones mettle and against the odds comes out the other side a little bruised, a lot battered, and just that much stronger when that goes away. No, this was a somehow worse kind of danger, the kind that came at you sideways and spit in your drink while your back was turned. The kind of danger that turned a martial artist able to take being hit by a truck into a weather watcher praying it didn't rain.

Of course, just then it _did_ actually manage to rain. A large and furry mass replaced the stocky mass beside him, and he felt her form reluctantly yet inevitably shift into a slightly smaller and cuter shape.

"Damned rain!" Ranma yelled at the sky with fist raised, "An hour! Can't I have just one lousy hour as a guy?"

In response, a light wind tussled her hair as if to say "Gee, sorry. You try holding up masses of droplets of water sometime, hm? Think you can do it better?" Which was rather wordy for a gust of wind, but before the thought could be pursued Ranma noticed that a by now far too familiar for her own taste shape had appeared overhead and it was suddenly a very good idea to _not be here_.

She ran, and leaped and jumped through the crowd - bouncing on the heads of those that wouldn't get out of the dammit way and diving between the legs of others that were standing far enough apart. Behind her, she heard people being more forcefully moved out of the way. While usually a single person doing this to a crowd of people was likely to find it increasingly difficult to get anywhere further, this particular pursuer had real and very terrifying experience at getting people out of the way.

"Ranma not escape!" came the battle cry. "Shampoo always find you!"

'And right there', Ranma thought while vaulting a horse before ducking and rolling under it, followed closely by Shampoo sailing clean over, and kicking off an unfortunately located overweight gentleman and bouncing right back at her already running-at-full-pelt target, 'the second reason our little jaunt to Jusenkyo had made my life a misery.' Sure! Most boys his age would love to be pursued by a really, as in ridiculously hot, cute, downright gorgeous chick who would willingly follow you across China... but the end goal those boys would have in mind was rather the opposite of what Shampoo wanted.

"Ranma! I kill!" she yelled in stilted Japanese. She'd been yelling something or other over the last two days, in Chinese. Ranma, not speaking Chinese (and had taken leave of his/her senses enough to trust his/her father in that department... stupid stupid stupid!) Ranma hadn't understood what she was saying but got the general idea. This meant that she was taking the time to learn the language so she could explain just what was going to happen if she managed to catch up. Again, usually a teenage boy would be delighted that a foreign beauty was taking the time to learn the language so that she could communicate with him more clearly. That sort of thing meant she was _very_ interested. Well, Shampoo was certainly interested - in seeing Ranma's body separated from her head.

She rounded a corner then, and felt herself getting pulled inside a cafe as hot water was dumped unceremoniously on her- suddenly his - head. The next instant, the training top was off, dumped on a seat. In the next instant, Shampoo glanced inside the cafe - glaring particularly at Ranma who was making every single effort to remain calm and poised that he could ever manage- before running off again with a frustrated and anguished scream.

After a minute of sitting in tortuous silence, Genma glanced around cautiously, leaned forward and whispered "She's gone, boy."

Ranma nodded, took a deep breath and let out a yell at the top of his lungs. "Ow! Ow! Dammit Pop! It didn't need to be that hot!"

"Hmph!" Genma said indignant as he leaned back in his chair with arms folded. "I'd call you an ungrateful boy, but it's not really me you're angry at, is it?"

Ranma almost seemed to melt onto the table then, as he let out a sigh of relief he'd been holding in all that time. "How's she doing it, pop? How does she keep finding us like this?"

"She's clearly an expert tracker. They probably all are, where she's from."

"No, no, no, that ain't it," Ranma said, shaking his head furiously. "She's too quick for that! We should be seeing her _maybe_ once a day. Not once an hour! No, it's just not possible. How the hell does she keep finding us so quickly?"

It was a valid question. Ever since the guide had dragged them from the village at an impressive speed, the pair of them had gone through the entire book of "how to escape pursuit" and were well on their way to writing a sequel. Although, it must be said, half the chapters of that sequel would rely entirely on possessing a gender swapping Jusenkyo curse. But still! There had to be an angle he was missing, a trick she was using to keep up with them that they just weren't seeing. But what? He sat there and stared at the table, pondering how this could happen.

"I just don't get it," Ranma said at long last. "It's almost like she knows where we're going before we even get there..."

* * *

But Ranma wasn't the only boy nervous about being attacked out of nowhere by a temperamental - if attractive - girl. Statistically speaking, this may seem rather obvious given just how many people there are in the world, but our attention must focus on a particular set of them in Furinkan, walking home after a long day at school. For one of them, the day had been far longer than it had been for the others, and he could not keep his suffering to himself any longer.

"It was terrible!" he said to the others, in a tone that made it seem like he was afraid to tell this story lest he find himself literally reliving it instead of metaphorically. But tell it he must, for the average teenage boy cannot resist the allure of things they should not know. "I was just minding my own business, wasn't looking where I was going, right? When I bump into... _her_.. Of all people!"

The other boys stopped in their tracks, shared terrified looks and huddled closer. They knew who he meant, but still... "You don't mean..." He gulped, and glanced around as if fearful of _her_ appearing out of nowhere if her name was mentioned,"The demon girl of Furinkan High?"

They had to stop then, as a cold wind blew down the street. For a moment, an eternity passed.

The first boy nodded slowly. "Yeah. Her. Soon as I saw who it was I bumped into, I - you know - apologised. It was my fault, right? Last thing I need is to get on her bad side, of all people!"

They all nodded, and none of them thought any worse of him for it. Being forced to talk to her under any circumstance would've likely left them all quivering wrecks. "So," one of them said in an almost-whisper "What did she do?"

The storyteller's eyes grew wider, his breathing faster, his gaze focused on nothing in particular directly ahead of him and his face did a perfectly acceptable impersonation of a stick of chalk. "She... she turned to me, right?" His friends grew closer, to better hear though they'd prefer not to have their dreams haunted by the horror he had clearly experienced. "She... she looked up and she... I can't say it!" Well, now he _had_ to say it. Unwritten rule of the teenage male. If you claim you can't say something, well then by gum you're saying it by day's end !"She... she smiled at me!"

There was momentary confusion over the group, as that didn't really sound all that horrible on the surface... but then the confusion realised it had some place else to be right now, and ran off as their imaginations caught fire about just how terrible this experience must have been.

"She smiled at you?" one said in hushed tones, as though he were reading some forbidden tome.

"You... poor bastard." another said, his voice twisted in understanding sympathy - though he could but imagine the torment his friend was suffering.

"What... what happened next?" the first of them asked, not really wanting to know the answer but dammit he had to ask!

The storyteller's eyes refocused, and he looked around at the group with a renewed expression of horror. "She said... don't worry about it, it was my fault. And just walked away! Just like that!"

The confusion realised it had left something behind, and popped back in for a little longer. "Hold on, she just left you like that? We _are_ talking about Akane Ten-"

A hand slapped over his mouth. "You fool! Do you want to summon her? We all know who he's talking about, so there's no need to mention it!"

"You don't understand!" the storyteller said, fighting back tears. "You didn't see it!"

"See what? I mean, you bumped into her, both of you apologise, she leaves without laying a finger or a threat on you. What's to see?"

"Her face! You didn't see it! If you only saw that smile! It felt like my legs were melting, I could barely walk away myself!"

He stopped, and almost collapsed against a wall for support. "Just thinking about it... God, she's so pretty! It almost makes you forget she's been destroying Kuno like that every day!"

The others looked around at each other nervously, somehow even more frightened of the demon girl of Furinkan High than they had been a few scant minutes ago...

* * *

The subject of those rumours stormed into her room, closed the door and leaned against it heavily. This had not been a good day. Certainly, on an intellectual level she was aware that her diary had told her of someone who was having a far worse one than herself. But this made her feel as better in the same way as a person who had dropped a hammer on his foot would feel better after seeing someone fall off a tall ladder - that is to say, feeling sorry for that other guy, but still doubled over in agony.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were all scared of her, like she was some sort of walking explosive with an already lit fuse. She'd been trying to defuse the situation by ignoring it and being her usual self, but it seemed like her Kuno encounters had put the fear of God into them. She snorted in disgust. That scared them? Hah! Some of the things described in her diary put anything she could possibly do to shame.

Speaking of her diary, though... It was time to look ahead and see what changes she had wrought. For whatever reason, merely planning to take an action resulted in no change in the diary - she had to actually begin the course of action to see where it would lead. She grabbed at the book, and - it fell open to the page she was looking for. That was the trouble with magical items. They always seemed to have a mind of their own. But speaking of minds of her own, she'd begun to notice a very obvious pattern in each of her diary entries... For example, in tomorrow's entry.

_"Today, I was annoyed by Kuno again. Doesn't he get the point yet? Idiot! And it's thanks to him being so darn persistent that nobody in school seems to want to talk to me now... It's kind of lonely, and it would be so much worse if not for Yuka and Sayuri... But I feel so sorry for them having to put up with it all..._

The primary focus of each entry seemed to settle largely on her emotional state. Why was that?

"Because, it is an exaggerated form of the kind of diary you kept."

She jumped out of her seat and spun around. She hadn't even felt the shift! A full minute later, she adapted again to the shock of suddenly being before God (it would have been longer, but Deus sped things up a bit because it was no longer amusing...) "Do you mind not reading my mind? Or randomly grabbing me from my room and - And... wait, what did you mean by 'exaggerated form'?"

She felt something tug at her skirt, and looked down to see some weird (yet kinda cute) little fairy thing looking up at her with doe eyes and a look that was almost _too_innocent to be believed. But not quite. The effect was disconcerting.

"Aintcha figured it out yet?" the cute little imp said, "All the diaries are diff'rent!"

"Different? Different how?"

"Depends what kinda diary you kept. F'r instance, you're rather a bit of an emotional person, so ya tended to keep track of yer emotions. You got the [Normal Girl Diary] , see!"

"Wait, I got the [Normal Girl Diary]? Me?"

The imp nodded. Akane tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"So... let me get this clear. The girl - that's me by the way - that's currently being called the "Demon Girl of Furinkan High"... the girl that's getting engaged against her will to a gender switching martial artist... that girl _is the one that gets the [Normal Girl Diary]?_"

"Compared to the other girls In the game? Hell yeah, yer normal! They're downright _odd_."

"Do try not to spoil the identities of the other players for her little one," Deus said.

"Ah, it's fine. Not like that tells her nothing!"

"You mean it tells her something? Please, let's not be so imprecise with language."

"This is all very interesting!" Akane interrupted - and let's be frank, if anybody was going to interrupt a discussion between God and his assistant, Akane Tendo would be a frontrunner - and pointed at the strange little imp now staring at her with a suppressed smirk "Who the heck are you supposed to be anyway?"

"That!" Deus muttered - and to any other being it would have been a shout - "Is my assistant Murumuru. I have important business to take care of, so she will answer your remaining question before I send you back."

She only really had one other question at the moment, but then that was the problem with talking to a being aware of the future. Tenses and conversational branches tended to loop in and devour themselves whole. Did she have another question? Nothing immediately leaped to mind... But then, she wouldn't get home unless she asked something, so...

"Uh, what happens to the losers? I mean, even if my [Normal Girl Diary] gets destroyed, I know plenty about the future already! That's already a pretty good prize, isn't it?"

"Hm, well... that's not quite my understanding of it... I heard Deus put this spell on the diaries to keep people fighthing each other. See, if a diary gets destroyed, then its owner's memory is erased of anythin' to do with the game! And if they did what you've been doin' and copying out stuff they've read, it's gone too. They completely forget! And so does any non-players they show the diary to. Ya get it? You can only keep knowledge of the future if you win the game! See ya later, Miss Tendo! Bye bye."

And just like that, she was back in her room again. Memory erasal, huh? That wasn't too bad... For a moment, she'd thought they'd be killled off! With renewed determination, she changed into her training gear and ran off to the dojo. She had a few ideas she wanted to try out...

* * *

"Are you sure the memory loss is a good idea? I mean-"

"This is supposed to be a test, little one. I must explore variations on the rules whenever possible. We shall see what comes of it."

Murumuru sighed wearily. "I dunno, I can see all kindsa complications from this..."

Deus stopped pulling on levers for a moment, and cast his gaze down at her with a smirk not so very well hidden in his eye. "So can I, little one... But we must let it play out regardless. Besides which! I intend to have many of these test games. I do not intend to cause a mass slaughter. Not yet, anyway..."

Murumuru kicked at her heels for a moment, then said "Hey, she took to usin' those square brackets real quick, didn't she?"

"Yes, I suppose she did," Deus replied as absently as a God ever could manage - which manages to be a paradoxically infinitely large amount and an infinitely small amount of absence - before he continued "I suppose she really is a stranger girl than she's aware...We shall see what comes of it."

* * *

She still had no idea what was going on. Her little sister was hiding something - and that something had made her rather on edge of late. She was jumpy, secretive and... setting a campfire in the middle of their lawn.

"What in the..." she mumbled as Akane set the fire, rolled up her sleeves and tied them to prevent them rolling down her arms... then tossed some chestnuts in, nonchalant as you like.

She marched right up to her little sister, and stood behind her. "What the hell are you doi-"

Akane hushed her, and turned back to stare at the flames with a look of absolute focus. "This is training!" she'd said. "I need to concentrate."

Nodding numbly, Nabiki watched as Akane took several deep breaths, drew back her arms, tensed her fingers... and then burned herself trying to grab one of the chestnuts. Luckily, she'd not been _entirely_ insane and had seen fit to prepare a bucket of water, which her hand was quickly thrust into.

Raising an eyebrow, and suppressing a smirk, Nabiki folded her arms and stood there in a way designed to maximise Akane's irritation at her. "This is training?" she innocently asked - and if you believed Nabiki's innocence for a moment, she had a bridge to sell you - "For what. Handling hot coals?"

"It's a speed technique..." Akane mumbled as she sat there with her hand in a bucket. "Dad won't train me any more, and I read about this one..."

"Where exactly did you read this? Irresponsible martial artist's monthly?"

She seemed to think about that for a moment, and after she answered Nabiki backed off with renewed worries about her sister's sanity. Whatever did a panda have to do with anything, how could it possibly be a magazine editor and why was the notion so funny?

As Nabiki entered the house, deciding she wouldn't learn anything new here, she turned back and saw Akane preparing herself again. "I will get this!" she declared. This was quickly followed by a yelp, a splash and a renewed vow of getting this.

* * *

It wasn't working. She just couldn't catch the little cow long enough to even scratch her. Even though she knew well in advance of where and when her target would be, she kept on disappearing into thin air like some kind of spirit! How was she doing it? Was she really that good that she could dodge and escape someone that knew where she was going? Did she have a diary too? No. She couldn't have a diary, or she'd have been using it to dodge the ambushes... so that didn't make sense either! It was as though she'd had a lifetime of practise, running away and hiding and dodging... How the hell was she supposed to kill someone like that? Sure, it had only been three days; but this was getting really disheartening.

She flipped the book open again, and took note of the next location she'd be available. Tomorrow, ten in the morning, the next city over. Easy to set an ambush; But she'd thought the same yesterday. And the day before. And it was getting _annoying _. This way wasn't working. The girl was too on edge, too ready, too cunning... There had to be another way. A way to set up an ambush, a way to snare her in an inescapable trap... Preparation well in advance. That was the way to go. Besides which, she'd not even taken the opportunity to read further ahead. Maybe she'd learn something useful...

And so, she eagerly turned another page in her [Hunter Diary] ...

* * *

She couldn't get it. She'd been spending a whole damn week reaching into the fire, nearly burning her hands, and it was getting her exactly nowhere. The training regiment had been brutal - a full hour on that each day, then spend another two in the dojo - but was she improving? Ha! No chance. She was missing something... something obvious. Aside from the notion that sticking ones hand into an open fire to grab chestnuts is a bad idea.

Suddenly, for seemingly no reason at all, she stopped and took a left turn - normally she would have taken a right, but not today. As she walked on, she opened her bag and pulled out a tattered book on English - or at least, that was the cover on it. If one were to look closer, they would see it was actually a diary with the cover of an English study book clumsily fixed to it. But the illusion seemed to work for all the intents and purposes she'd intended. The entry she had turned to read:

_"Avoided meeting Kuno today thank goodness. According to the diary, he was waiting for me, but I took a different route home... At least something's going my way!"_

She smirked at that. Good. So long as she didn't do anything daft, she'd avoid meeting Kuno for the rest of the day... But she still had problems to overcome.

Firstly, it had been a full week and a half and she had not yet encountered any other diary holders. Were they all playing cautious? Too caught up in their own lives to bother with the game? Still, Deus said the game would end within six months... Which meant they'd show up sooner or later.

The second concern was bigger, in some ways. Three days. She had three days before her life changed, and she wasn't nearly ready yet. There was a terrible thought, for a moment, that perhaps his arrival would be the direct cause of the other diary holders appearing... it fit, in its own way. She knew some crazy people already, but the _real_ nuts wouldn't start showing up until then...

Either way, she needed to get better. Stronger. Faster. And in order to manage that, she needed a sparring partner. But who could she possibly ask? Her father had begun acting strangely timid around her of late - no use to spar with, certainly. Kuno would take any time spent with her as affirmation of his belief she - ugh - _liked_ him. Who else could she ask?

"Excuse me dear," a woman in a kimono said as she walked past, prompting Akane to look up from her book. She was walking past the clinic. Doctor Tofu's clinic. If there was anybody that could help her out... She'd been trying to avoid seeing him since reading _that_ entry, about her hair and Ryoga and... It had just seemed too painful. But then, if anybody could help her improve... act as a sparring partner, a teacher, a helping hand... Who better? Resolute, she marched over to the entrance. A quick glance around, and she saw there was nobody else around... For a moment, she panicked and thought maybe Kasumi had come over and everybody had cleared out; then she realised she wasn't hearing the usual accompanying crashes and giggles she ought to have been. It was safe, and she let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Doctor Tofu? Are you here?"

She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt Betty's hand placed on her shoulder. She'd never get used to that. Never. "Ah! Akane! How have you been? You've not been coming by so often lately... Oh, but I should probably introduce my new assistant," as from behind him, a girl in a chinese dress stepped out.

"Hello!" She said, somewhat awkwardly. "I is Shampoo.. Oh! You look pale, you need lie down?"

* * *

**Dairies Database:**

**1: Akane Tendo: [Normal Girl Diary]**

**10: Shampoo: [Hunter Diary]**

Author's Notes:

Not many reviews for this yet... if you like this story or hate it, please tell me why so I can do more of the good things. I can't improve without knowing where I'm going wrong, after all.


	4. The Hunter and the Hunted

It's not mine, and I'm betting it's not yours either.

I mean, unless you happen to be Rumiko Takahashi or Sakae Esuno.

* * *

The future is an untameable beast, with a form that shifts from moment to moment. With each crack of the whip, the future shifts in ways that are both random and unpredictable. Each carrot it is offered is consumed without the trainer noticing, and each stick bounces off it and takes the eye of the trainer... This is an area in which the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle may seem to apply - but the rationale behind the unknowable future is far more deeper than it first appears. We all make our small scale predictions, but can never say for certain what events will occur on a larger scale... And there is a reason for this.

For as long as it has existed, human society has been forever directed off towards new tangents based upon new discoveries, new inventions. It is insufficient for any mechanism designed to predict future events to do so while only considering the many people on the planet and what the weather is like - it must also know what technologies will be available, when they will be available, and what they will do. Herein lies the paradox. In order to make certain the system is aware of the societal effects of any discovery - be it scientific, archaeological, any kind at all - the system must necessarily begin by making the discovery itself. It is impossible for any single thing to predict the future without knowing everything about the universe in which it exists. It is impossible for a single being to know what will happen tomorrow, down to the slightest detail, without first seeing the spin of every atom, every refracted beam of light, every tear falling from every eye all over the world... Only a God can know the future with perfect clarity. Only a God could dissect your life into fragments, watch from moment to moment and define the very instant down to the micro-second where a person stands at the top of the world... and begins their fall.

Every second is precious. Because who knows what may occur in the next?

* * *

The sky was clear, the air was crisp and neither too warm nor too cold. It was a beautiful day, but not simply because of the weather. This was the day she'd been waiting for all her life. This was the day she'd been sweating, bleeding, suffered for through all the years. One last opponent, one last fight and victory would belong to her and nobody else; the training, the torment would all have been worth it. It took less than a minute before her behemoth opponent fell over heavily under the quickness, strength and fury of her assault. For anybody else, it would not have been easy to deal with this size of a fighter, but for her? Child's play. She could've slept through that fight, but no sense in giving any quarter when none would be returned. The opponent was large, tough, strong... but slow, too certain that her size and weight offered too large an advantage to overcome. That had made it easy to dodge her blows, strike from above and finish this decisively. Her overconfidence had conquered her, so this opponent fell just as all the others did before. And with this the contest was settled, she stood tall and proud; ready to claim her prize! Which some girl and her panda was eating.

After pinching herself discretely to make certain she was awake, Shampoo nodded her head and leaped down towards the offender. How dare she take away from her moment like this? That prize was for her and nobody else! Hers alone! She earned that prize! She pointed her Chúi at the offender and shrieked "What do you think you're doing? That's mine!"

The girl looked around nervously, as though only now realising her crime. Stupid outsider! How dare she do this? Who _does_ this kind of thing? The panda, sure, she could see the panda doing this. It had a particularly dumb look in its eyes, too... But the girl should have known better! Well, she'd pay for it now. Of course, then she realised that the girl was speaking in some other language - no wonder she did something so stupid! But still, no excuse was valid. She had to pay...

"Ah, Miss!" said a small, stout man. "She says she's willing to fight for the ownership of the prize."

A cruel smile formed on her lips. The little girl wants to fight for the prize? Fine! Anything could happen in a fight. For every bite she took out of that food - _her food_ - there'd be a pound taken out of her greedy hide. The two took their places on the log, and waited for the starting signal...

"Begin!" the judge called. She ran forward, seeing nothing but openings in the lax stance. The silly girl wouldn't know what hit her! But then... There was a flash of quick movement as she drew upon her foe and something caught her under her jaw and sent her toppling. Her brain felt rattled as she flew through the air and she couldn't help but wonder what had just happened. She got her answer as she landed and saw the outsider's foot still extended - her hands behind her head almost bored by the whole experience. As she crawled to her feet, she felt the stunned silence wash over her like a tidal wave. And why shouldn't they be stunned? They just saw their village champion swatted aside like an insect mere minutes after earning her way to the top. She'd crawled there over blood and sweat and the most intense training she could imagine... and it was stolen by some outsider girl with a snap kick, an idle stance with her hands behind her head and _dammit she looked bored_ !That was _it!_ The girl dies.

She glanced over to her great grandmother, who was watching in the crowd just as stunned as the rest. The kind, yet harsh woman had trained her, trained her well and trained her hard... she had caught the gleam in her pupil's eye that screamed "murder!" and she solemnly nodded in agreement. The outsider hopped off the log then, unaware of the eternity that had transpired just now... and found herself getting a kiss on the cheek. The poor girl seemed utterly confused by all of this - but of course, how could a just arrived outsider know of this law? How could she know that she was a dead girl walking? Well, the guide caught on sharpish as he dragged both the girl and the panda away at a rather impressive top speed. No matter. Let them run. It would be more fun this way.

Before the chase began, one last piece of preparation had to be taken...She ran back to her home - nobody dared even come within ten metres of her - and stuffed everything she could grab into a carry bag. Weapons, clothes... the tribe's rulebook... A map, just in case. Money, because that's always useful.

"Here ya go!" said a friendly voice off to her left.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the book offered to her before her eyes went wild and she swung her Chúi out in an effort to catch the intruder.

"Easy! Easy!" the little imp said, effortlessly dodging her attacks. "Hey, come on! Check the book! I bet ya'll find it real useful!"

She looked at it. "It's just my diary, stupid imp! What are you, then? What do you want with me?"

"Ah, see, yer part of this game. Try actually readin' it. It's no _ordinary_ diary, see..."

Not ordinary? She flipped it open to the first page... and saw tomorrow's date with an entry already filled in!

_"Noon, five miles east from the village. I found the girl and the panda fishing ..."_

"Ya see, it's a Future Diary. Right? It's the [Hunter Diary]..."

* * *

The future cannot be predicted by mortal beings to any degree of useful reliability. This is the truth of all matters. Anything could happen. That dice could show a six or a one, the cat could be dead inside the box and the future simply isn't going to say one single word on the matter until the time is right for you to know about it. But even if we could, what good would it do us? By their very nature, predictions of the future would have to be added to knowledge about the present day, and if the knowledge that originally led to the prediction in the first place did not include the results of the prediction itself in its conclusions, then it is very likely that the making of the prediction contradicts itself. And then again, if the prediction was taken into consideration the effect may have come before the cause...

In terms of elections, these are known as the "bandwagon" and the "underdog" effects. In some countries, the media is prohibited from making such predictions in the event that they are reflexive in nature - and thus alter what would have otherwise transpired.

The realisation of the reflexive prediction unveils a further truth about the future. Not only can we not predict it, but even if we _could_ then we would be fully unable to properly control it. Even if we knew the future, events can spiral out of our capacity to deal with in ways that could cascade far beyond our original predictions.

And right now, Shampoo was having that very problem. No matter how she planned ahead or how carefully she set her ambushes her target always seemed to wriggle out of her grasp and hid somewhere for a brief time. Now was the time for a new plan, so she turned the page in her [Hunter Diary] to search for inspiration. Where would be a good place to catch up to her? Closer to the coast? By one entry, it seemed like the two of them would be swimming back to Japan. Swimming that distance? No wonder she was having trouble with the girl...

Where exactly were they heading, then? Home seemed likeliest. Where was home, then...

And then she found it. Apparently, the girl going to some place called Furinkan in Tokyo. Perfect. That must be her home, then. Shampoo would bide her time, lay off on the attacks... let them lower their guard as she stalked in the shadows and waited until she had them cornered like rats. And then, once they were cornered, there would be a great deal of blood and pain and screams and bludgeoning. So very much bludgeoning. Starting from the legs and working up seemed the way to go...

She sprung to her feet and tucked the book into a discrete pocket. She didn't need to know much else quite yet. There was enough money for a boat fare, and she had presence of mind enough to remember a passport just in case the girl did manage to get out of China. Fine. All that she had to do was beat her to Tokyo, and wait. The only problem was, the girl may have been changing her route in an effort to throw her pursuer off, but she was still making good ground...

* * *

A two day lead was better than she'd been expecting, all things considered. With two days of preparation, she could easily and quickly get a scope of the land, set her trap, watch her target squirm. And once that was done, she could move on to other interests... but first thing's first...

"Hello!" She said, somewhat awkwardly. "I is Shampoo.. Oh! You look pale, you need lie down?"

The girl just stared at her, not blinking or moving as though she would fall apart if she even dared move. Oh dear, this could be rather serious. She carefully and quickly led the girl to a bed, laid her down in it and within two rolls of an r had a thermometer in the girl's mouth and her wrist in hand to check pulse. It seemed to be speeding up a bit, and - for some reason she was watching her with eyes that were slowly filling with unwarranted defiance... and now she thought of it, there was a bit of a battle aura forming around the patient.

"Please don't rush off like that Shampoo," the kind Doctor said from behind her. "I would like an opportunity to talk to the patient before we do anything else. Alright?" Shampoo nodded and stood aside to let him past. Interesting. She hadn't heard him approaching... "So Akane," he said, and the girl flinched while never taking her eyes off Shampoo. Was the girl really so intimidated by her natural beauty? Or was it a latent mistrust of outsiders? Either way, she couldn't quite pick up on the conversation the two of them had. The girl - Akane, apparently - had to have the words dragged out of her as if they were some great unknowable secret, and then the Doctor turned to her and spoke in her language.

"Shampoo, this is Akane Tendo," another flinch, almost like she was tensing up for a hit that wasn't coming. "She says she's hit a wall in her training and needs a sparring partner." A sparring partner? This girl was a martial artist? Then why was she acting like - of course! It was so obvious! She must have a talent for reading skill level, and realised how out of her league she was. Poor dear, must have been a bit of a shock to her system. But no, as flattered as she was by the idea of taking on a student, she really had other things to deal with right now. She had to plan an ambush, figure out how to ensnare an Airen, locate this mysterious Pervert Girl and take her down... she simply didn't have the time! If she wanted to take down Ranma, and seduce her Airen she needed to spend as long as possible preparing.

In short, there was no chance she was going to train this girl. It simply wasn't happening, no matter what he said. Nope. No chance, no how, no way.

* * *

Loneliness is a terrible state of mind for a person to suffer through. Human beings are and have been since time immemorial a social species. We thrive on the company of each other, even as we are annoyed by those other people and even as we judge them for perceived and actual wrongs they commit. Even as we cast our blame around at threats real and imagined, even as we make fun of the unusual and even stupid actions of others, even as we try so very desperately to push people away... we need each other. Without near constant human interaction, your typical person goes a bit loopy. After all, when we're left with nobody to converse with but ourselves, we can often put some very odd ideas in our own head.

To this extent, we all actively and passively seek out interactions with other people, and particularly those that we have a great deal in common with. Shared interests, similar personalities, these lead to friendship, companionship... Or perhaps even a rivalry.

Ryoga Hibiki was no stranger to loneliness. He was walking down this road, his only companion his overburdened backpack and his far heavier than it looked umbrella. He was staring rather nervously at the sky, and as a precautionary measure opened it up above him. As hard as it seemed to be for him to remember these days, there was a time where he didn't give any kind of a damn what the weather was like - he was just glad to have the umbrella with him. But that never stopped someone spilling something on him as he walked past, and nor did it help if he didn't notice the rain in time.

Alone again, then. He looked around for any sign of a landmark, any notice of where he was... and found none. Nor was there anybody to even ask for directions and - he looked up - it was almost certainly going to rain any moment now. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve this. He didn't have any of this coming to him. But he knew who _did_. In that strange state of mind the truly loneliest people enter, he had reached out and found the closest thing he was capable of crafting. Ryoga Hibiki had found an enemy.

He raised his fist - the one which did not currently have an umbrella clenched in it - to the heavens in defiance of the gathering clouds, and shouted "I'll find you yet, Ranma Saotome! Just mark my words!"

"Excuse me, sir?" came a voice just off to his left. He spun around - he was _certain_ he'd been alone! Where did this cute girl in a flowery dress come from? "Did you say you were looking for Ranma Saotome?"

His face turned crimson at the rather adorable grin plastered across her face, and he suddenly took a keen and obsessive fascination with his shoes. "Uh... y-yes! Th-that's right. Wh-why?"

"Eh?" the mystery girl gasped, "What a coincidence! A friend of mine has been looking for him for ye-ars! Apparently, he'll be at a place called Furinkan High School in three days time! Oh, you lucky person you! My friend will be able to take you right to him in no time!"

As Ryoga swallowed this information he began to cry manly tears and silently thanked the heavens(taking back his defiance from a minute before), fate, or whatever it was that led him to run into this cute girl that would lead him to his revenge. To Furinkan High School, then! "Thank you, miss. I won't forget this!" he said, as he turned and began to run down the road. At long last! A lead! He knew where to look for his hated enemy, and at long last revenge would be his! He had no thoughts on what exactly would follow that revenge, but then again those that seek revenge rarely do... Often meaning they find themselves a target of vengeance themselves.

"Uh, sir?" Came that cute voice just to his left. "Do you even know where it is?" He turned to look at the cute girl, just casually skipping next to him seeming to have no trouble in keeping up at all. No. Of course he didn't know where it was. It could be anywhere. It could even be back the way he was coming! "I'm meeting with that friend in a bit, if you want to head down with her. She'll find it easily enough for you. No trouble at all!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned to the girl, paying no heed to just how damn _fast_ she'd been skipping just then. "Are... are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't want to inconvenience your friend or anything..."

She smiled and the world seemed just that little bit brighter for a moment. "Oh, don't worry," she said, "I'm sure she'll be plenty happy to meet with a handsome man like you."

Ryoga wasn't much of a travelling companion for the next half hour, as his blush had extended to the point where although it was raining, the water was too hot on contact with his head to trigger a transformation. He lumbered after his new friend, who had grabbed his hand to drag him off to meet her friend.

* * *

To the surprise of absolutely nobody but herself, Shampoo shortly found herself standing in a particular dojo opposite a particular girl tightening the belt on her dogi and in a particular way that meant she kept right on staring right at her. Seriously, did this girl ever blink? It was beginning to get unnerving. Correction. It was already accelerating towards unnerving and someone just handed it a jet-pack.

Akane adopted a basic battle ready stance - but Shampoo knew that the stance didn't matter so much as what was done with it. Shampoo stood there patiently, waited for the blow to come, and then... Too slow! Her moves were like a picture book - so easy to read you don't even really have to because the flow of the narrative is just so predictable to begin with. The dodge was effortless. It was easy to see why Akane wanted a sparring partner. The girl clearly had some strength a _little_ speed and she sure could swing a mean fist, and if this was her holding back then the idea of being hit by one of those punches even gave Shampoo pause. The trouble was, she just wasn't - duck - able - casual lean - to - hop backwards - connect. There was some skill here, but it would take years to get her up to scratch; Shampoo's plans did not involve killing her target and sticking around for any length of time worth a damn.

Akane drew back a bit, analysing Shampoo for any opening - good luck finding one that isn't a trap - and said "So... What brings you out here?"

Shampoo held her hand out for a moment, and checked her phrasebook for the question and response."Oh, I is waiting for, ah, friend." Duck the punch, redirect the kick, block the backhand she attempted while using the redirected kick's momentum for the blow. Clever that, and now her hand stung a bit. "She due here two days." Well, half truths were more comfortable than the whole thing and much more difficult to catch someone out on. Besides which, conversation along these lines may make for interesting pieces of information being revealed... For example, the identity of the mysterious perverted kitchen destroyer!

She hated having to be subtle about this, but really what choice was there? It wasn't as if she could go around asking where she could find a pervert girl. People might take away the wrong idea entirely! No, she needed something else to identify her target and since Akane was a local girl, bit of a martial artist herself... she might well know just who this person was! Heck, maybe if Shampoo was lucky, the two of them might even be rivals! Instant ally, right there. She held out her hand again, took out her phrasebook and asked "If you meet girl called Ranma, you tell Shampoo yes?"

"A girl called Ranma..." Akane said. "Don't you mean bo- uh never mind."

The next moment, Shampoo casually caught a hurled fist, and tilted her head curiously at her new student. "Why you want train so hard?" she read.

"Why does any martial artist train?"

"Not what Shampoo mean. You fighting for something. Shampoo see it in eye."

Akane sighed wearily. "There's this... pervert at school. Has this weird idea that fighting is courting."

Shampoo frowned as she translated the last sentence, but managed to hold back her tongue. She didn't need to draw attention to her tribe's laws when she didn't need to. Especially if it twigged something in her own mind, or led to uncomfortable questions... But hang on, did she say a pervert was bothering her at school? Could it possibly be...?

"Pervert... is... " Shampoo started, as she frantically looked through the book for the right word. "Uh... Pervert is attack unprovoked?" Akane nodded, solemnly. "Pervert is... Stubborn, delusional?" Another nod. Well, that made it seem likely... after all, the pervert girl would have to be stubborn and delusional to think Shampoo's Airen would want to be with anybody other than Shampoo... "Shampoo hear about Demon Girl of Furinkan High School. She related to this?"

Ah, that was an interesting reaction. Akane had stopped completely dead in her tracks, her face ashen as it stared ahead while mouthing the words "Demon Girl". That was probably a "yes", then. "How..." she finally said, "How did you hear about this?"

"Shampoo talk to people before visit Doctor."

"And what did they tell you, exactly?"

"They say Demon Girl super strong, temper like name imply, but cute like bunny and has smile like sun. But they not say name. They too scared." And that was a very interesting reaction Akane just had. Clearly, she didn't think too much of the Demon Girl... and from what she'd heard, compared to what she'd read whoever she was had to be the pervert girl that would try to steal her Airen! "Shampoo help... deal with problem?"

"Ah! No! No thanks!" Akane stammered. "I, uh, I should deal with this by myself."

Shampoo shrugged. Fair enough. Sometimes a warrior must fight their own battles. But if she trained this girl, made her strong enough to beat this pervert girl without effort... Shampoo smiled. Maybe she really did have an ally in dealing with this complicated little mess. It was always so good to find a friend.

* * *

"Look, I may be hungry and... wow, that actually really does smell delicious come to think, but... Uh... I don't quite get why we're standing in line at a cart like this. Aren't we supposed to be meeting your friend?"

"Oh, she'll be along soon Ryoga dear," the adorable angle hanging on his arm said, with a giggle. "Ah! But tell me more about this guy... what was his name again?"

"What, you mean Ranma Saotome? He's the-"

Before he could continue, there was a loud crash from the inside of the cart, as the chef had dropped a bottle of sauce and was now staring at Ryoga with a look he'd most recently associated with large and hungry animals that just spotted a tiny little helpless pig. The chef dove out of the cart in an attempt to tackle him to the ground, bounced off his chest before picking himself back up and my what a large spatula that was. Readying his own equally ridiculous weapon of choice - the weighted umbrella - the two stood opposite each other waiting for the first to make their move.

"How do you know Ranma Saotome?" the chef hissed.

"He made my life hell and I'm going to kill him. How do _you_ know Ranma Saotome?"

"He made _my_ life a worse hell, and if anyone's killing him it's gonna be me! Now, start talking! Where is he?"

"Ha! Like I'm gonna tell you he's at Furinkan High School! He's mine!"

"Furinkan High School? Where's that, then?"

"I dunno, why don't you ask... uh..." He was pointing to where that nice, friendly mysterious girl had been standing a moment ago... but now that he was looking around, he could see no trace of her. She had vanished, like a ghost. Or maybe she really was an angel...But then, the skies made good on its earlier threats and began to rain. The chef watched, astonished, as the figure before her shrunk into a pile of clothes with something wriggling under it. Reaching in, a small black pig was pulled out and held up to face level.

"So... this is how he made your life hell?"

"Bwee!" the pig nodded.

"... You win," Ukyo said. "I'll settle for seeing him suffer."

* * *

For most people, stealth is a simple case of not being seen. Use cover and camouflage! Move silently, slowly, carefully and don't draw any attention to yourself for any reason. But this is only one school of thought on the matter, which meets with varying levels of success. In truth, there is another method which is far more devious and infinitely more effective.

Show a person what he expects to see, and he (or she) will typically leave it at that. There will be no further investigation, and maybe even no further thought on the matter - for a lot of people, what you see is what you get. Why is this? We entertain ourselves frequently by attending magic shows, in which a dexterous and cunning showman makes use of the evening to deceive our sight and make us believe one thing has transpired when in truth something else has happened. Everybody knows about optical illusions, and yet keeps on trusting their vision in everyday life. True practitioners of stealth recognise this, and make use of the deeper meaning behind stealth. It doesn't matter if you are seen or noticed, what matters is if you are paid attention to. What matters is if the word suspicious flashes even for a heartbeat across the mind of anybody in the area. Stealth is about belonging to the background, being thought of in ways that make you seem like a non-threat if ever thought of at all.

Case in point, there was to all appearances a rather cute young girl wearing glasses and a plain dress hurrying down the street with books gathered in her arms. Hardly unusual, though nobody on the street knew quite who she was. She simply ran past them all, waited until nobody was looking and pulled out a particular book from the top of the pile, smiling as she looked at its contents and mouthing the words "Mission Accomplished". Anybody that saw this action thought nothing else of it, and why should they? Nobody paid her any real mind, though a few men did cast her some rather appreciative glances (figuring she'd be a real looker if she let down her hair, ditched the glasses...) while their girlfriends threw a couple of nasty looks her way and a pointed elbow towards their boyfriend's ribs.

Well, truth be told there was one person watching this mysterious young woman with great care. Another person that subscribed to the art of stealth, but took a route far closer to the first line of thought. This person had been discretely following this target for some time now - since she'd run off after leaving that bandanna boy in fact. There wasn't much doubt in this person's head that this was an interloper! An unwanted interference that would have to be dealt with! But then, how?

The mystery girl suddenly and subtly altered course towards a mailbox and tripped over apparently nothing while making a cute "Aiee!" noise. As she leaned over to pick up the dropped book, she stopped for a moment to whisper into the mailbox "Keep following me, and I'll kill you."

As she walked off, a face emerged out the front of the mailbox and two legs popped out through the bottom. The face scowled at the retreating mystery girl, before stalking off - mailbox and all - defeated on this day. But there was still tomorrow...

* * *

For anybody that knew her, it might come as a bit of a surprise that Nabiki was a fan of the horror genre. It was not, as may be inferred, that she liked being frightened. In fact, she had yet to encounter any movie or story that could truly make her feel frightened in even the slightest. The true reason she was fond of horror stories was for the observation of the reactions of people around her. "They were scared of this?" she would think, and feel very pleased for herself that she wasn't so easily scared. Even her sisters were easily scared of little things like ghosts and skeletons... And especially Akane, in spite of her tough girl act. It was simultaneously kind of cute and kind of funny. At the moment, Nabiki was watching a classic of the zombie horror genre - the original Dawn of the Dead - when suddenly her nose turned up at the most rancid and horrible stench.

"Muuuurrr.." she heard come from both the television and from behind her at the same time. Behind her was unquestionably her sister's voice, and she sighed in disappointment. This was exactly the kind of stunt she'd try to pull on Akane if she was watching the film, but it was such a transparent joke.

"Akane, could you do that elsewheeeee-" she trailed off as she caught sight of her little sister. She was staggering, barely able to stand up straight while her hair and her training gear were matted to her with sweat. her eyes were unfocused, he expression was one of thirst, and her arms were reaching out ahead of herself as if reaching for something she could barely make out. Akane shambled on towards the kitchen while using the walls for balance. Despite herself, Nabiki followed her into the kitchen and saw her pour two glasses of water for herself - one she tipped over her head, while the other she gulped down so fast it made Nabiki feel like gasping for air. The glasses were placed back on the counter, and Akane resumed her stagger; this time heading upstairs.

"Baaaath!" she moaned. "Baaaath!"

On assessment of the stench, Nabiki had to agree with that plan in full... But it also raised a question. What in blazes had Akane been doing in the dojo all this time to work herself into such a state? Neglecting the movie, she sauntered towards the dojo and casually peered in, raising an eyebrow at what she saw. There was some foreign beauty, on first glance dancing but Nabiki knew better. That was an elaborate yet beautiful kata, being delivered with a speed and force Nabiki had never seen before.

"Uh... excuse me!" she said, putting on her best I'm-just-a-cute-kid voice. "Wh-who are you, then? A friend of Akane's?"

The stranger stopped in her tracks, gave Nabiki a blank look and pulled out a book of some sort. Peering at the title, Nabiki read "Japanese to Chinese Dictionary" on the cover. Ah, a foreigner. Must be nice.

"I... is Shampoo. I train with Akane," Shampoo said slowly. "You is sister?"

"Yes, I'm Nabiki. Uh, you were sparring with my sister just now?"

"Yes. She not bad, but need work on stamina and speed." Shampoo gave the book to Nabiki, and resumed her kata.

Nabiki nodded in response, thinking back to the sweat pouring off Akane's brow and how she'd been incapable of walking in a straight line. Comparing and contrasting this to the condition of this Shampoo character's condition left Nabiki more fearful than any film she'd watched in her seventeen years. She could see maybe a little bit of sweat on that brow, maybe enough to drown a particularly small fly. Still, this mystery girl seemed nice enough... Flipping open the book, she searched for the phrases she wanted to say.

"To be honest, Akane has been working on her speed a bit lately."

"Ah? How so?"

"Well, first she'd get these chestnuts and light a fire in the garden. Are you okay? That looked like a nasty trip."

"I... I am fine," Shampoo said, picking herself back up. She stared intently at Nabiki, leaving her feeling rather uncomfortable. "What did she do with fire and chestnuts?"

"Oh, she'd toss the chestnuts into the fire, try to grab them out with her bare hands. I'm kind of worried about her, she's been acting really weird-"

She blinked and then Shampoo was right in front of her, having seized her shoulders while staring intently into her face. "Never mind 'act weird!' How she learn that?"

"H-hey! Getoff! She said she read it somewhere! Didn't even say where or anything!"

Shampoo backed down then, grabbed the book, read it wide eyed and began to pace the dojo. After a minute, she stopped and turned back to an increasingly nervous in spite herself Nabiki. "How long she been acting weird?"

"About two weeks now. Could you keep an eye on her, I'm a bit worried."

She mumbled something in Chinese after she read the book, which Nabiki determined to later look up. It would turn out to translate roughly into "you should be".

"I... may know what wrong. Need check something. You make excuse, yes? Bye bye!"

Nabiki blinked again, and Shampoo was flat out gone. What the hell kind of company was her little sister keeping these days? On the bright side, to all appearances she had an ally in her floundering investigation... she'd soon find out what was eating her little sister. By hook or by crook.

* * *

When confronted with adversity, the typical human being has one of two responses upon which they will most typically rely. Fight, or flight. The latter indicates a person unable to cope with the scenario ahead of themselves, causing them to imagine just how much worse things can get. Their instinct is to run, and hide. Get away from the adversity and hope and pray it doesn't catch up to them.

The other response is to stand tall and fight. To raise arms and await the adversity, before charging into it headlong. This indicates a person filled with confidence, pride in their own ability... but it can also indicate that the person is - intentionally or not- misleading themselves as to the nature of the troubles ahead.

Which is the better approach? Hard to say. Generally it depends upon the person and the adversity. Some problems are best solved by ducking and covering, while others are more easily dealt with by standing ground and meeting them head on. If one takes the flight reaction at the wrong moment, the problem can grow in size and gradually corner them and force them to deal with a much larger problem than first existed. If one stands and fights, it could very well be that the adversity is a bulldozer with a taste for human flesh...

Akane sat in the bath and let the hot water soak into her aching, tired muscles. Whatever else she'd been expecting today, this was not even kind of close. "Dammit dammit dammit dammit!" she thought. "Shampoo! Why did it have to be her, of all people? Why did she have to have a diary?" From how she'd been described, Shampoo was quite the determined person - chasing Ranma across China like that? Once she had set herself a target, wild horses couldn't drag her away!

The pun made her laugh a little when she realised it, but she had more serious business to contend with right now.

For example. In spite of her best efforts - for hours it felt like - she just couldn't touch Shampoo! Not even a scratch! The girl had danced around her movements, and if that had been a real fight she could've taken Akane down maybe a thousand times and made it look easy. But she didn't! What was her game? She must have known who she was sparring with if she had a diary... Unless... Her brow furrowed in deep concentration. Maybe... just maybe... Shampoo's diary _didn't_ say anything on the matter. After all, Deus said that the diaries were different... maybe Shampoo's didn't tell her certain details? She didn't seem to know that Ranma was really a boy, yet... Or, just as likely, it was a lie. A manipulation of some sort towards a goal she could not yet glimpse... No, she couldn't second guess her like that. Down that route lay only madness. She had to make a stand of some sort. She had to find some weakness, some vulnerability that she could exploit to bring Shampoo down. What was it Deus had said before? About the diaries... If she could befriend Shampoo, use her own diary to make sure she didn't accidentally let Shampoo twig the truth, get close enough to her that she could do something with it... that would mean...

"Akane!" Nabiki called through the door, cutting off her train of thought. "Shampoo had to head off. She said something about having "Too too busy" and will see you later on."

Akane frowned and dragged herself out of the bath. That was fine, so far so good. This would give her time to check out her own diary and plan ahead accordingly. So long as she held the advantage of knowing who her opponent was, she could pick the time and place for a confrontation. And after all, she knew what would happen in the future, right? How could anything possibly go wrong from here?

* * *

Next time: Things go horribly, horribly wrong.

But I'm pretty sure you guessed that much.

DEAD END!


	5. Pain

Ranma ½ is Rumiko Takahashi's

Future Diary/Mirai Nikki is Sakae Esuno's

* * *

"For the battle of life cannot be fought without pain, may not end without bloodshed ; man must bear the pain in every case, for he is conquered as well as conqueror."

"Life without pain has no meaning."

~Arthur Schopenhauer

We that live must suffer pain. It is an inescapable cruel and constant teacher we must bear during our every waking moment, for its lessons are of things that our body would much prefer we not allow to continue, and please if you would be so kind as to not let it happen again we would get along _famously_.

But physical pain is often fleeting. Injuries can and do heal over time, such is the nature of the human form. Pain fades away as nerve endings recover, until only the memory remains. As powerful an effect as physical pain has on our decision making process, there is always that upper limit to how much of it we can experience at any given time. Once that limit is passed - and that point is very different for different people - most people pass out in an attempt to protect the mind from what is being done to the body. Physical pain is intense, debilitating, and can drive people to the point where they will say and do anything just to make it stop... but there is an upper limit beyond which physical suffering can never truly aspire.

Emotional pain, on the other hand... now there's a beast that strikes deep and sharp into a place that no surgery could ever heal. A well placed emotional blow can leave wounds that fester within the unconscious mind, like a mine primed to blow up at any moment. Where the human body evolved to recover from physical trauma, emotional trauma - betrayal in particular - cuts away at the mind leaving wounds of hatred and bitterness that may never truly heal. People do not like feeling as though they have been made fools of, and it often does not matter whether there was intention or not. Merely the perception of betrayal is enough to form a strong dislike of a person. But when there is intention, where there is malice, expect lifelong feuds to follow.

Different people have different levels of pain threshold. But it also depends on the kind of pain you're talking about...

* * *

'Stupid stupid stupid STUPID!' Shampoo cursed as she dushed down the streets of Nerima, her frustration threatening to boil over within her.

Another diary holder, that's what it had to be. Shampoo had known that there would be others, that she was just one competitor within a larger competition, but coming from a small village isolated from so much else she had foolishly disregarded the odds of ever running into another diary holder. She had been under the impression that the others in the village - or at least the surrounding area - were supposed to be other diary holders. Even as she tracked her target she had dismissed the notion that she would ever encounter another contestant. After all in such a large world, what were the chances of such a small group actually running into each other?

As far as she was concerned, the scroll in her pack was prize enough and while she tracked down Ranma the others would stay behind and fight it out leaving her to just return and mop up whoever was left. That dumb shadowy spirit had obviously no idea as to what he was doing.

But now all that had changed. Without even looking for one she had come across another future book holder. An enemy, the competition, an obstacle to winning this game. Cursing herself again Shampoo wasn't sure who she was angrier with, Akane for lying to her and pretending to be her friend or herself for falling for the other girls' ruse so easily. Obviously this Akane was far more dangerous that she appeared. She may not have been as strong a fighter as Shampoo but she had found her in the middle of a crowded city and lulled her right to her home. Who knew what sort of trap she had had laid out for her? If it hadn't been for that clueless older sister of Akane's - Shampoo shuddered as she thought at how close she had been to being removed from the game.

_"She's been having a rough time of it lately, and I think she could use a friend..."_

'Ah yes, that's why,' Shampoo thought as she flinched at the bitter sting of the memory. She had been grateful to the nice Doctor for his help and generosity and enjoyed the thought of relaxing a bit in this large city as she waited for news of her prey's arrival. Akane had seemed so... helpful. The girl was polite and accommodating, patiently waiting while Shampoo had flipped through her phrase book and answering each of her questions with simple honesty. She was even fun to spar with, along the level of a skilled farmer or trader, but still she had held a passion in her attacks that never ceased to amuse the Amazon during her warm up. It was clear now though that if Akane was the type of opponent that she would be facing from now on she could no longer afford to take anything at face value. The thought at how easily the girl had manipulated her, had made a fool of her scathed at the young warrior's pride.

Reaching her destination, Shampoo easily leapt up to the second story back window of the clinic that she was staying at. 'I had best leave this place as well,' she thought. After all, who knew if the good doctor himself was part of Akane's scheme? Swiftly packing all of her belongings she was soon out of the room and back out into the open world.

Shampoo considered her options as she raced across the rooftops. Still out there was Akane, by now probably aware that Shampoo was on to her. If she really was another diary holder then she'd know when and where Shampoo would be. Hiding out and sneak attacks would be out - or were they? Slowing down as an idea came to her, a wicked grin slowly spread across her lips. If Akane was a diary holder then she would know what was going to happen next, and after spending weeks trying to track someone who could constantly foil her best laid traps despite her own journal, Shampoo had learned that knowing the future wasn't as all powerful as it seemed. It was possible to alter the future, one just had to be... creative. A quick read through of her journal and she'd have all the information she'd need.

Bounding off once again, Shampoo swore that she would not lose to this latest challenge! Her pride would accept nothing less than total victory.

* * *

For many people, a hero is a person that flies through the air while wearing their underwear outside the rest of their clothes. This is partially true but far from the whole story. There is a marked difference between heroism and duty. It is when a person, just one completely ordinary person out of all the ordinary people everywhere in the world(and there are a _lot_ of them), sees something terrible about to happen. It is in that split second when they see something coming so terrible and so cataclysmic that they _must_ act. There is not one moment to think about what must be done, there is only time to do it, no thought, only action! It is in that second of observation and automatic reaction those heroes are born.

Today in Nerima the very last person anyone could have suspected would be a hero, if only for a very brief moment. In sharp and stark contrast to what he would momentarily become later in that same evening, a passive observer may have labeled him a villain. The room was cast in a dark red as he was hunched over his desk peering at the contents of a photo album as if it contained the secrets of eternal youth. Each of these photos was comprised of a single subject, the same person at a variety of different locations. At her home in her room, running to school, in the dojo breaking bricks...

He sighed at the very sight of her, captivated utterly by her beauty and grace, captured perfectly in a moment in time. He thought then about how none of the others understood her, not really. He was perfect for her. He knew that. But how could he get close to her? It wasn't possible so long as that buffoon kept on obsessing over her as if she was some prize to be earn-

His chain of thought was cut off just then, as he noticed a new picture of her in the bath. As he cleaned up the blood dripping from his nose, he couldn't help but feel thankful to Deus for providing him with this perfect gift. He had never kept a proper written diary for himself, as his own life was so dull and dreary. She was his only bright spot, the silver lining to his perpetual cloud. The one thing he really gave any kind of damn about in his life. It was only natural that his [Secret Love Album] had comprised entirely of stealthy pictures of her. Now, he could see what she would be up to before she even did anything. Now, he could bask in the warmth of her beauty without having to sneak around in bushes or peering in windows. No risk. Just pictures appearing out of the ether. Instead, he took more artistic pictures when he couldn't take out his album. That was why his room was red, after all. He had to make his parents think he was developing the pictures he'd been taking throughout the day. The game Deus had set them all held little interest to him. He knew he stood no chance of winning, especially since she had a diary as well. He couldn't go up against her, even if he had wanted to.

And then he stopped. Another page had been turned, and the picture caused his heart to almost stop there and then. It took a moment for his brain to figure out just what he was looking at, and by the time he had figured it out he already had his shoes and coat on, photo album in hand. In the moment his thoughts returned to him, he grew afraid; more terrified than he'd thought possible. But still, his feet moved onwards. He had to do this. He had to stop this. But first, he had to figure out just where the hell this happened. He looked again at the picture in spite of his revulsion and tried desperately to focus his attention on possible clues in the background. This wasn't easy though. The contents of the foreground drew his attention again and again, each time resolving his normally fragile will just a little piece more. He had to do this. He had to!

* * *

Elsewhere in Furinkan there was another figure desperately fleeing her house. Akane wasn't sure what had happened, or what was waiting for her when she would get there. But according to her diary, within the hour Nabiki would be found beaten and bloodied down by the canal. According to the entry, Nabiki didn't see her attacker, but it was almost certainly a mugging. Her purse had been taken and found empty in a bin in a nearby street.

She couldn't call the police for obvious reasons. The mugging hadn't even happened yet. There were no indications that any such thing would even occur, save the existance of her [Normal Girl Diary]. She didn't know exactly where Nabiki had gone out to earlier, but she knew this was where the mugging happened.

There was a bush near the bridge. It was the perfect hiding place as nobody would see her here. All she had to do now was wait for her sister to appear, however long that would take, but Now that Akane had the time to pause for breath and think about the situation, a number of thoughts occurred to her. Why hadn't she seen this event before now? What could she have done that would have changed things this much? It didn't make any sense!

Unless... it was one of the other diary holders. Like, for instance...

"Nihao, Demon Girl."

The voice came from above her, up on the bridge, and her blood ran cold. Looking up she saw Shampoo stood there, gazing down at her with an intensity and focus that was almost a sentient, murderous being in its own right. She hopped off the bridge as if walking downstairs, and landed on the ground beneath in much the same fashion.

"Sh-Shampoo? What are you doing here?" Akane asked, though she knew the answer already. Dammit, she was a martial artist, and heir to the Tendo dojo! She was not scared. She was not frightened. She was in control. Though her knees wouldn't stop knocking, and her heart seemed determined to leap out through her throat. But dammitall _she was not scared! _

"Shampoo know you got special diary from big man. Shampoo got one too. See?" She pulled what must have been her diary out of her dress then and opened it to a certain point, not taking her eyes off Akane for more than a second. "It say, 'Akane help Ranma. Warn about Shampoo! Then help her hide.' And then it say 'Airen protect Akane. He only looks at her!' The diary snap shut, and was hidden back in her dress as Shampoo smirked smugly at her. "It did say before. It not say that now. Pervert Demon Girl obstacle, in both Shampoo hunt for Ranma and in love for Airen! But still not certain you have diary, so Shampoo set trap. Plan to beat up greedy girl." Shampoo slid into a battle pose then, and Akane knew there was no escape. She was too fast, too agile and out for blood. Even if she could have escaped - for instance, while she was doing that whole bit with the diary - she wouldn't have run. Her pride wouldn't allow it. This was a straight out challenge, and she had to accept no matter how outmatched she was. Her earlier sparring partner continued. "Shampoo solve problem before problem start! You betrayed me! Try to manipulate me! This is fruit of your pride!"

The words stung a fair bit, all things considered. It hurt that Shampoo wanted to fight her like this, lured her into a trap, and planned to have her killed off - and that she'd fallen for it. It also hurt because some of what she said was true. She had planned to get on Ranma's good side by helping him get rid of Shampoo. Preferably if possible this would occur before the kiss of marriage deal made the whole mess all that more complicated. With him helping her out and her helping him with her diary they'd have been a virtually unstoppable combination. And Shampoo would have had to play the role of pawn as Akane played human chess. Worse yet, the worst thing of all, if her diary had not updated quickly enough - or if she hadn't checked it - it would have been Nabiki that paid the price all for the sake of an experiment. All because of her. That stung down to the core.

But none of that hurt quite so much as the sweep kick Shampoo hit her with from seemingly nowhere, nor did it hurt so much as landing face down after having been flipped completely in the air. Shampoo grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to her feet before she could even try to stand up. Switching the grip to the collar of her shirt Shampoo raised Akane into the air and smirked at the futile attempt to struggle free. "Last words, Demon? You look like choking on somethi-"

Just then Akane spat dirt directly into Shampoo's eyes. The shock was enough to force the warrior woman to slacken her grip enough for Akane to easily break free as she pushed away with one hand and grabbed the diary sticking out of her dress in one fluid movement.

Then she started to run. She might never get the taste out of her mouth, but that had to be done. It was incredibly obvious now that Shampoo had been playing nice and holding back a considerable amount during their earlier spar, Akane had not been. This was not a fight she could win through any reasonable method and she needed a little distance in order for her two second old plan to work. Shampoo wouldn't be blinded for long and when she could see again, well that wasn't worth thinking about. She went to tear the pages out of the diary-

Suddenly she was falling again. The diary went flying out of her hands and landed somewhere else, only the gods knew where. She was finished now. That was her first, last, and only chance to get out of this alive. Looking down she saw that there was a bola tied around her legs and very shortly after that there was a heavy weight sitting on her chest.

"Bad girl! But then, you is Demon... Still, no escape! Shampoo might have made it quick before, but now..."

Akane threw a punch with as much strength as her position would allow. It was easily caught and then Shampoo pulled that same arm back. The pain Akane felt then was unlike anything she'd ever yet known in her life. It shot down her arm like a bolt of lightning and left an echo throughout her entire being. As darkness faded in from the corner of her eyes, she could swear she heard this strange noise, loud and high pitched and very close by. Her last conscious thought before the darkness finally claimed her was the realization that it was a scream. It was a scream and it was coming from her.

* * *

Shampoo cursed under her breath, and rubbed the rest of the dirt out of her eyes. That scream was bound to attract attention even though the two of them would be concealed by the bridge. She'd have to make this a fair bit faster than she'd originally wanted. Reaching into her dress she pulled out a knife and raised her arm to strike...

"NO! Stop!"

Shampoo turned around and saw a skinny figure standing at the edge of the river. His voice, already very high pitched and quiet, was cracking under the weight of obvious terror. He would be easily dealt with once she'd finished off Akane.

"Y-You shouldn't do that! I-If you do, I'll d-destroy this!"

He'd found her diary. That was a bit of a time saver. She'd been intending to retrieve it after dealing with Akane but this witness saved her a fair bit of time.

"Did-didn't Deus tell you? I-If our diaries are destroyed, we d-d-die!"

'Another diary holder,' she thought. How many were there in this area? Unless, of course... this was the place that he meant they'd all be gathering in to play the game... But she could think about that later. Her diary had stated that nobody would pass by here until Nabiki would in a few minutes. Obviously he must have read about this and planned to interfere, perhaps take out two enemies at once. From the way he was shaking and stammering he was obviously terrified. It might have been a bluff, designed to throw her off balance, but there wasn't time to take this slowly. The knife in her hand was the best option, but if she threw it and hit the diary that could be disastrous - depending on whether he was bluffing or not of course. She smirked as an idea came to her. A fraction of a second later the knife was flying through the air, the boy's gaze tracked its flight path and he froze in terror even when it struck the ground in front of him. He glanced up just in time to see Shampoo leaping through the air to tackle him... and the diary slipped from his fingers as she landed.

Shampoo felt no little satisfaction at knocking the breath out of his unhealthily skinny and fragile frame. Her eyes scanned the area looking for her diary, before they opened in horror as she heard the splash. Ignoring her intended victims for now she dove into the water; It wouldn't mean anything if she killed them and the boy turned out to not be bluffing. It was too big a risk. After a moment of wading in through the water, her fingers closed around the diary and she raised it above her head triumphant!

The triumph didn't last long as a torrent of pain flooded across her mind. Shaking it off she opened the diary to check the damage... and saw that the ink was smearing and mixing with the water of the canal.

A typhoon swept within her head. Panicking now she stumbled out of the water, dazed, confused, and in increasingly desperate need of a painkiller. Stumbling drunkenly she squeezed her scroll, water and ink pouring onto the ground, only to nearly drop it as a wave of nausea assaulted her. Colors became sounds and her teeth seemed to vibrate in her skull. Visions of melting buildings and faces spread through her mind, names and locations washing away like the ink in her scroll. Convulsing, she nearly vomited as her entire mind momentarily spun out of control, the distinctions within her brain blurring and flowing together, her entire world loosing coherence.

As she walked through the street images flashed through her mind that seemed familiar, yet she could not quite place them. A lifetime of intense training went by that felt like it happened to someone else. A boy wearing glasses pestering her unceasingly. A quick look around told her that this was not the same place as the now unfamiliar images. Why was she here instead of there? Panic rose again as she couldn't remember. It rose yet higher when she couldn't answer another question immediately: What was her name? Who was she?

"NO!" she screamed, punching the air as though it had been mocking her. "I will not be beaten by this!" Another tsunami of pain fell upon her and she almost fell to the ground sobbing from it. She rose to her feet again, shaky but determined. She looked at the item clutched so carefully in her hand. The scroll... it was connected to this somehow. An image of an impossibly huge figure - claiming to be a god and with that size and power she could believe it - flashed by her then. He'd asked her to take part in a game of some kind. But what kind of game was this?

That didn't matter. Leaning against a wall for support, she breathed heavily and clutched at her head. "Name... Is... Shampoo! Shampoo of Joketsuzoku! Shampoo will not be defeated like this!"

And then she stood under her own power while fighting back the pain. Each sloughing step felt heavier than the last and her mind ached in confusion as water continued to soak deeper into her diary. She needed help as an image flashed through her mind, that of an old woman. She could help, she always made things better, always knew just what to say and to do because she was so wise and strong. Shampoo swore internally that she would not rest until her memory was whole again, and then she disappeared into the night.

* * *

"You should've killed her you know," Murumuru sighed. "This way she'll just get involved in the game again."

"I know," the voice boomed in response, "In the actual game everything shall be a matter of life and death. It is too important for it to be anything else."

"So... why not do that here?" she said in a tone of mock innocence.

"This is an experiment. I wish to see how these people will react so that I may make my ultimate choice all the better."

"Hmm... Looks like something went wrong with the memory erasing spell..."

"I noticed," Deus replied, calmly. "Between my own actions and the girl's stubborn nature, she will recover the majority of her memories shortly. But not right away... I think this way might even be more fun to observe."

Not for the first time, Deus' assistant wondered if he was really a devil claiming to be a God... And then smiled as she turned her attention to the unfolding scene.

* * *

It wasn't often that Nabiki panicked, but hearing her little sister's scream pierce the otherwise calm of the night struck at her heart like a dagger of fire and ice. Where before her pace had been slow and methodical, now she was running full pelt down the street in the direction she felt the scream had come from and paid no heed to the coincidence that it was the same direction she was heading anyway.

Before long, she came across a scene that gave her pause. Her sister was lying on the ground with her legs tied up and she wasn't moving and why wasn't she moving, thank heavens still breathing, and Nabiki let out a breath of her own that she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

With that concern abated, she took in everything else going on - a boy lay by the canal clutching at his chest in clear pain, and behind him was that foreign girl - Shampoo, wasn't it? - fleeing into the night. Comparing what she'd seen of Shampoo earlier in the dojo to this wimpy looking boy gulping in air like he'd never tasted it before made it seem pretty conclusive just what had happened here. Shampoo did this, the boy stumbled in on it... Bitch would pay for it too, but first thing's first Akane needed a doctor.

As she ran over to a nearby phone, she didn't notice the boy hobble off into the shadows. By the time she looked back, he had completely vanished into the night.

"Why were you out here," Nabiki mumbled just as the call finally connected... But she'd have to solve that mystery later.

* * *

It took about half an hour before Hikaru Gosunkugi hobbled back inside, which was quite telling about the state of his body since he was only ten minutes away. He'd been lucky that Shampoo had been more concerned about getting her diary back than with him all she'd done was knock the breath out of him. His torso - that is, his _entire_ torso - was still very tender, but he would live.

"So just whatever were you doing running outside like that Hikaru? That's so unlike you!"

He winced a little at his mother's question, unsure of how to answer. Eventually he settled on, "Being a hero, mother. Sorry, won't do it again..."

With that, he returned to his [Secret Love Album] and sighed. The sight of his angel safe and alive - if injured - soothed his thoughts and his own pain. She would recover - and it would take a few weeks from the look of things - but she was safe and in much better condition than she would have been otherwise.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in her room Akane looked down at her arm, sitting there in a sling and she fumed. Before Shampoo had appeared, she'd thought she might have an edge over the other diary holders by way of martial arts skill, but this completely changed her gameplan whether she liked it or not. To make matters worse, Shampoo was still out there it seemed. Nobody knew where she was now. The police were even looking for her, and having no end of poor luck tracking her down. Not one single solitary dammit lead.

All that meant was she was biding her time, waiting to strike again like a snake. If she did appear then who could stop her? And on top of that, there were other diary holders out there just waiting to see one of the others slip up. A moment of vulnerability in a known diary holder would be all it took... And they would pounce like cobras.

There was only really one chance now; Akane had to play human chess. And tomorrow she'd get the chance... provided they both lived long enough.

* * *

On the outskirts of Tokyo a tired pair of martial artists marched onwards wearily and warily towards their destination. They were a little tired, and a lot hungry; though many that knew them also recognised that the latter is not entirely unusual.

"So pops," the younger started. "Tell me more about this friend of yours."

"Ah, Soun you mean?" the older replied, "We trained together when I was much younger. I think you'll like him, he's a decent sort. At least, I hope you do... and his daughters too, come to think."

Ranma mulled this over. "Remind me why we're going to meet him again? I mean, I think we lost Shampoo-"

"Ah, but she may yet pick up our trail at any time!" Genma declared in that voice Ranma recognised as the 'I know better at you, or at least I'd like you to think that' tone. "It is better if we surround ourselves with friends and allies. Let her come to us on our own terms and territory, rather than hers. Once we're sure it's safe, we can go back then. Get ourselves cured."

No, Ranma sensed there was something more to it than that. He couldn't quite tell what it was yet, but a long and distant memory kept trying to come back to him. Kept trying to warn him that the course of his future was about to change in ways uncontrollable and terrible. Maybe he really should chance it, head back to China and look for a cure. Or, he could continue on with his father, see this friend of his and just wait...

Clouds gathered ahead. By morning, there would be rain.

* * *

Dairies Database:

1: Akane Tendo: [Normal Girl Diary]

5: Gosunkugi:: [Secret Love Album]

_10: Shampoo: [Hunter Diary]_ **Eliminated**

Author's Notes

And so, the first arc in this story comes to a close. Next time, Ranma finally appears at the Tendo Dojo!

The most common complaint I've had about this story is the lack of Yuno or Minene. I may need to tweak some of the characters to craft a couple of equivalents. And I have some very, very interesting ideas on how to do just that...


	6. At Long Last, Here's Ranma!

Ranma ½ is Rumiko Takahashi's

Future Diary/Mirai Nikki is Sakae Esuno's

* * *

"But... but Genma said he had a son!" Soun lifelessly wailed. It was terrible to behold. Where stood a man not five minutes prior who was atop the world, dancing in joyous anticipation there now lay a mere shell of a man. Even though she still felt more than a little annoyed at her father for antics she shouldn't know about yet, Akane did feel rather sorry for his rather pitiful state. He really had hinged it all on this engagement, and in the space of time it took for an introduction and a hug, the whole world jumped up and crushed him like a bug under a jackhammer.

"You call this a boy?" Nabiki quipped, and all truth told, her sarcasm was really biting today. Ranma probably wasn't noticing the sarcasm too much, though. Not with the way Nabiki was roughly making use of Gender Exhibit B to emphasise her point.

"But yes," Akane thought to herself. "I would call Ranma a boy. Just give "her" a little hot water, is all..." But she could see her sister's point, however crudely made it might have been made. Even knowing about the curse, it was rather difficult to imagine just what the male Ranma looked like...

"Uh... do you mind not doing that?"

For a moment, Akane thought she'd been the one addressed and she realised she'd been staring at his... her... face perhaps a little longer than she ought. She also made a mental note to herself: Figure out how to address Ranma's cursed form. It might save a little confusion and headaches. Still, she'd been distracted long enough. Time to move things forward...

"Nabiki! Lay off him... her!" she cursed herself for the slip, but nobody seemed to notice. She extended her left hand, as her right was... unavailable. Hopefully, she could arrange a little time alone with Ranma so they could talk a little more freely... "Hi, Ranma. I'm Akane. Want to be friends?"

The smile she got back was, admittedly, equal parts adorable and pleading. Her eyes were screaming "get me away from your sister before she gropes me again!"

"Oh, sure Akane," Nabiki said, rolling her eyes in disdain. Akane braced herself instinctively. Incoming sarcasm with the bite of a rottweiler! "I'm sure befriending the strange girl from _China_ is going to work out just _great_ this time."

"Nabiki!" Akane yelled for the second time in a minute. Probably best not to get into that habit. "Lay off him - **her**!" Damn that mistake, and damn her foreknowledge tripping her up! "I'm sure that _she_ isn't anything like Shampoo at all! Are you, Ranma?"

It took her a moment to realise that her tongue had just walked over a marble filled banana peel atop a greasy floor. She didn't quite realise at first that her foot had decided it was time for a brief vacation, and had heard some wonderful things about her mouth. But when she did realise, she wanted to facepalm so hard she was worried she might give herself a concussion. Given how strong she was, this wasn't as silly a concern as it may seem. She nervously turned to look at the reaction, and had to admit she was impressed. With the right inspiration, Ranma did one _hell_ of a good statue impersonation.

* * *

Ranma's ears had instantly pricked up in response to that name. It couldn't possibly be the same person, but it was better to be safe than sorry, right? Best to make sure if there were any sounds out there that shouldn't be there, or perhaps more telling sounds that weren't there that should have been. Nothing. But then, part of the whole deal that made her more than a little scary was _there never was any noise at all._ No need to panic, though. It wasn't her. Couldn't be. How could she know at any conceivable level that Ranma was coming here, to this house, in this neighborhood, in this district, in this city with such precision and awareness that she _got here first, dropped her name, befriended Akane and apparently broke her arm!_

"Uh... Excuse me, but this Shampoo wouldn't be, a little taller than me... Kinda long purplish hair, tied up in a ponytail at the back with two other bows on either side of her face..." she trailed off, taking note that all things considered, Nabiki's icy gaze had been rather blunt and rounded in comparison. "Uh... I guess that's a yes, then. 'Scuse me a moment while I get the hell out of here."

The garden was clear, that was good. No sign of her on the nearby rooftops either, which meant she was either taking her time or she was coming in low. In which case, any one of those walls was going to collapse in a minute, and then at least there'd be a damn good idea of which direction not to run in. And better yet, she could maybe even use all that smoke as cover! Wait a minute...

On reflection, it was probably a bad idea to turn around to look at where the smoke was coming from. Particularly since it seemed to be accompanied by some rather heavy growling, a bit of an eery reddish glow, and - , was that actually the stench of sulphur? Curiousity ruled the decision, and Ranma turned around to face what she had to admit was one hell of an aura trick.

_**"You know this Shampoo that attacked my baby girl?" **_ the voice boomed and echoed away from the head, as though even it were frightened of the image. _**"Ranma Saotome, you have some explaining to do!"**_

For any normal person, the only response to this visage and this proclamation was the involuntary compulsion to perform the very best impersonation of a statue that one could possibly acheive. But since Ranma was about as far away from whatever concept of "normal" most people ascribe to (and really, that's all that the word normal cares for) as one could safely get without spontaneously sprouting a tail, it was a simple matter to shake it off and back away slowly from the head. Not out of fear, mind, but self preservation. The two are very similar, but with a magnifying glass one can tell the difference. "No time!" she declared "I have to get out of here before she shows up and... Uh..."

It appeared as though Ranma had backed up against something - or more preceisely someone - who was apparently wearing a long dress with an apron on the front. For a fraction of a moment there was a panic - it was Shampoo - but that passed on the realisation that the shadow cast by the figure was much too tall and besides which Shampoo would probably not wear an apron if she ever did catch up. Unless, of course, she had post-murder plans which made Ranma wonder just why oh why her imagination chose _that_ moment to be so adept at its job.

A gentle pair of hands pressed down on Ranma's shoulders, pushing her back towards the seating area. She looked up. It was the last of the sisters, smiling gently and reassuringly like the sun peeking out from behind a cloud, "Ranma, dear... I'm sure you won't be thinking of leaving yet, would you? I'm sure you have such an _interesting_ story to tell."

Suddenly, escape didn't sound like such a good idea. Ranma looked back at Akane, who was standing in the doorway with a look that seemed split between concern and curiousity. And then there was the arm. _"It's like that because of me."_ said Ranma's conscience, and that did stab a little at ehr gut. _"Shampoo wouldn't be here if not for me... These people deserve some sort of explanation..._" Besides which, the grip may not be all that firm but the look in her eyes made it somehow seem not all that likely that escape was a possibility.

"Okay, fine!" Ranma sighed. "I don't know why she attacked Akane, but... this is what I do know."

Well, at least this had to be the low point of the day. Right?

* * *

The hour had finally arrived. At last, he was there, and there would he stay until... until she arrived and made things better. Time was the factor here. In a contest such as this, that much was rather blindingly obvious, but timing was also a crucial factor. Move too slowly, and the chance is missed. Move too quickly, and the wrong people get suspicious... And there was one person to be very suspicious of in that place. It had ben a little surprising to realise that _she_ was another competitor. Of all people! But there was no question of it. Her movements were too suspect, her actions and reactions did not gel with what had been in that diary... She would be suspicious immediately. The best course of action would be to construct an alliance. After all, surely they wanted the same thing? If not... he could be turned against her. Surely that would be an easy matter, but hopefully an unnecessary precaution.

What was this? An alteration to the day's entry? No matter. It appeared as though events were moving in a favourable manner in spite of the minor alteration. Eyes cast down to a particular item, lying on the floor. It wasn't really necessary anymore, all truth told. It had been difficult to weigh it in, but ultimately the decision was clear. It wasn't necessary - but why tell anyone, when there was a potential strategic advantage in the perception of a threat? The plan would work, and he would thank her for it. All that had to be done was wait.

And after all this time, after all these years of loneliness and worry, dreams of hope and nightmares of stark reality... she'd gotten rather good at waiting.

* * *

Nabiki listened with scrutiny to what was, all truth told, an incredible story. Pursued across China by a murderous, vengeful girl bent on tracking her down with bows and swords and any other weapon one could lay hands on... It would almost make one feel sorry for the rather adorably shy girl sitting there telling them all this. She was a victim of misunderstanding, at the wrong place at the wrong time, hadn't known, hadn't been paying attention, had gotten drawn into a situation from which there was seemingly no escape but death. That was one way of looking at it.

Nabiki looked at it from a different angle. Ranma stupidly walked into a village full of warrior women, pissed off their champion, and somehow managed to lead her here. Whereupon said champion attacked, injured, attempted to murder Akane and still remained at large with nary a sign nor trace of her. In short, Ranma had potentially put the lives of everybody at the table in rather severe danger because she was a bit peckish.

There were just two things stopping Nabiki from reaching across the table and slapping Ranma across the face with the force of a truck. Firstly, Ranma had managed to escape Shampoo consistently, and had even beaten her in a fight. Nabiki wasn't too certain that a truck would be enough to get her to notice. The other thing was a distracting thought, but it ate at her and trying to figure it out was driving her anger up to all new heights. Why in the blazes wasn't Akane reacting to any of this? Of the four of them, she ought to be the one with the most verbal reaction to this revelation. Of the four of them, all she'd said was "huh. That's terrible."

Where was the anger? Where was the rage? Where was the demon girl of Furinkan High? Sure, her right arm wasn't up to snuff at the moment, but her left arm was more than enough to make walls a bit nervous when she clenched her fist. Instead, she just sat there listening quietly as though she was half expecting to hear it. Dammit little sister, _get pissed off_ _already_!

"I think," Kasumi said, performing a mercy killing on a tense, awkward silence, "That we should all take some time to consider this. Ah, Ranma, I think you have had a particularly trying day. You should head up to the bath and try to soak out some of those tensions. The rest of us should return to our own business, for now, and consider this matter later on once we're all a bit calmer."

There was some general agreement to that, but Nabiki remained quiet. Screw that plan. Didn't they realise that at this very moment, Shampoo could be heading towards this place in search of Ranma? That the very act of keeping her here was endangering all of them? Or that worst of all, she was clearly hiding something. The way she kept avoiding eye contact spoke volumes, and there wasn't a chance in hell Nabiki was gonna let that fly.

Everybody else went off, and a plan began to form in her mind. All she needed was a little time alone with her, and she'd get Ranma talking. She had ways of dealing with problem cases... and the opportunity for a little privacy had just been tossed her way. She waited a few minutes, somehow certain that she'd uncover Ranma's secret with great alacity if only she waited, and then followed her into the bathroom. A quick count to ten, and she went up the stairs, slipped open the door, and then -

"Nabiki! Wait! Don't!"

As she opened the dividing door, her sister barged into the bathroom, eyes wild. Just as suddenly, she turned beet red and spun around in place for reasons quite beyond Nabikis understanding.

Then she turned to face Ranma, stared for a moment. Fainting sounded like a good idea just now. In fact, it sounded like such a good idea that she decided to give it a try.

* * *

While this turn of events was rather amusing, all things considered, it wasn't exactly helping Akan'es plan to get on Ranma's good side. Or maybe it was. After the Shampoo explanation, she'd dashed off to check what had changed in her diary, and what a surprise it was to see that Nabiki was the one that walked in on Ranma , she'd noticed too late to change it, and so Nabiki was hunched over with a nervous tic that most certainly did not look healthy, leaving Akane more than mildly concerned that at any given moment, she might pounce.

"So, what you're saying is..." Akane said in an effort to move the conversation along, "You're that same girl from before?"

Ranma meekly nodded, which managed to somehow seem irritating beyond belief.

"And why," Nabiki growled, "Did you not see fit to tell us this earlier?"

"You didn't ask."

Akane would later swear she heard an audible snap as Nabiki's eye stopped twitching and she did, indeed, attempt to leap at him across the table "Let me go!" Nabiki yelled at her sisters, who had managed to restrain her "Just let me strangle him for ten seconds! Just ten seconds!"

It wasn't funny. Really, it wasn't. Nor was it a sort of sideways payback for what she would have wound up doing if not for the diaries.

"Ahem, well this is actually rather good news I suppose," Soun said, somehow managing to ignore the struggle occuring just off to his right. This was something that must have come from years of training, dedication, or perhaps he was just so darn stubborn that he wanted to move the conversation regardless of anything else going on around him. "Since you are in fact a boy, that means we can get on with discussing the arranged marriage."

The struggle stopped abruptly at that. Nabiki looked more than just a little mortified, while Kasumi didn't seem all that overjoyed either.

"Yes, Tendo!" Genma said, "Now we can work on getting Ranma married to one of your lovely daughters. Eh, boy?"

"Stick your lousy engagement where the sun don't shine."

"You see? He's coming around to the idea!"

"That as may be," Soun said, "But first of all, I feel that we must resolve this Shampoo mess your son has made. Once we have ensured that this Shampoo girl does not pose any further threat to anyone here, the engagement is suspended."

Wait, what? Had she heard that right?

"As much as I want the schools joined, we must first ensure that we remain focused on dealing with a potential threat. The engagement could be a bit of a distraction from the threat until we get it resolved."

And that was that. She suddenly felt like a train that just looked down and wondered where the rails had gone. Her father went off to the next room, and Genma followed, a heated debate rose up that she couldn't quite bring herself to focus on, and... It was amazing, really. Why couldn't he have been more reasonable before? In the other version of the future she had read, he'd been so much more insistent right up until- Until the wedding attempt. Until everybody they knew converged in a tornado of madness and almost tore the house down.

"I understand how you feel, Saotome! But I must put my family's safety first! The engagement would be too much of a distraction..."

That fit quite nicely, as it happened. He still wanted the engagement to happen, just under more... favourable conditions. She snorted and rolled her eyes. Given what she'd read, today was probably right about as favourable as it was going to get for a very long time.

"Yen for your thoughts?" Ranma said, interrupting her thoughts.

"That's kind of cheap, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "You know, if your father's anything like mine, they'll be arguing in circles for hours, and then forget what they were talking about in the first place. The answer to your earlier question is yes, by the way. If the offer is still open."

Now she was really confused. What the hell was he talking... Unless he meant... "You want to be friends?"

"Yep. I feel like I could use one, and..." the sentence was left unfinished, but she had a pretty good idea what he was about to say. Something to the effect of "you look like you need one as well." All things considered, maybe this was the better way things could have turned out...

* * *

Ryoga Hibiki was lost. This is not in and of itself a particularly curious event for much the same reason that a statement that the sky is blue would make one wonder more about the observer than the observation. On this occasion there was one peculiarity that set it somewhat apart. In his lost state, he had a companion accompanying him. Correction. He had a _furious _companion accompanying him and giving some very serious thoughts to just leaving his stupid easily lost self here to fend for himself.

And now, he was staring at a tree. "I'm sure we passed this three times already," he said. "Are you sure we're not going in circles?"

Ukyo rolled her eyes. As if he was one to talk about walking around in circles. After the discovery - which was made the hard way, damn his stupidity - of Ryoga's non-existent direction sense, she'd taken charge of finding their way out of this forest. They must have lost a day or so because of this... But then, what was another day out of three and a half thousand? Just another day of letting the wound of betrayal fester deep within. Another day of waiting, another night of dreams of vengeance... But then there were the nightmares...

She drew up, and pulled him away from the tree. This was a harder task than it sounded, because the boy was like a wall of walking muscle. On consideration, that might explain why he's so slow witted... "Forget that stupid tree, jackass! We're not losing any more time, and we're _not_ going around in circles!"

"If you say so... But I could've sworn I'd seen that tree before."

Ukyo sighed wearily, and sliced a "U" shape into the side of the tree. "There! Now we'll know if we pass it again. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

They walked on again, in silence for another five minutes before Ryoga made the same mistake anyone would make under penalty of awkward silence. He attempted to make conversation.

"So... You didn't tell me why you wanted revenge on Ranma."

"No. I didn't."

They walked on another ten or so paces, before realisation set in that she had answered that question as fully as she intended without further probing. "What did he do, then?"

What did he do? The question was heavier than it sounded. She took a moment to speak, for this was a tale that needed formulation. Where to start was the biggest problem.

"When did you last see Ranma?" she asked.

"Uh... about three or four months back, I think."

She nodded. Just a few short months... Sure, the curse he had picked up was arguably a worse fate than hers, but she'd carried this scar for far longer. She'd feigned surrender earlier, spotting an opportunity to mine information, but hadn't counted on him being such a bloody idiot. "I last saw him about ten years ago. Maybe a little more than that. Every time I close my eyes..." she did so, for the sake of emphasis, "I see it all so clearly. He sits atop the cart he and his father conned us out of, laughing merrily and waving at me as I run after them."

"That bastard stole your cart? No wonder you're so - "

"He didn't just steal a cart!" she spat. "He sat on top of it, taunting my gullibility, my trust, and all the while was breaking my heart in two. Every night, I dream of breaking him as he broke me, and it soothes my slumber from the other less pleasant dreams. Every night, I hear his laughter and watch him flee. Every night, I hear the whispers on the playground, mocking me for my loss."

"Yeah, that's what he's best at. Stealing food and mockery. No wonder you hate him."

"Hate him? Just for those reasons? I despise him, for a better one. He has done more than wrong me, and I shall hurt him with your help. But before you can deal the killing blow, I'll stop you, so we can let him recover and we can go on hurting him. I shall give him the slightest taste of the hell he has put me - I mean, us through and only then will I be free to reclaim my lost femininity. Only then will justice have been served."

"Hold on, wait a moment...You're a girl?"

She nodded, and almost broke her spatula on his thick head.

"Jackass," she groused. The boy was like a cannon. Mindless without someone to aim it, but incredibly destructive when the fuse is lit... He was terrible company, but a mighty weapon. No point in delaying any further, so on they went. Enough time had been lost as it was, and she only hoped that she found other company to keep before his stupidity rubbed off on her. At best, they'd arrive at Furinkan High school within the next two days. Provided there were no other distractions along the way...

Unnoticed by either of them, a tree with a distinctive "U" shape carved into it began to hop carefully through the forest in the same general direction the two of them were headed... Perhaps the vengeful pair weren't quite as alone as they had thought...

* * *

In a darkened room, a small figure seethed as he stared at his photo album. How dare he! How dare he sit in her room, so nonchalant. How dare they share a carefree laugh? How dare he spend time with her, talk to her without care or regard for the privelage of being in the presence of this radiant beauty?

He flipped ahead to what must have been a few days later... And smiled momentarily, until he caught sight of Akane in the background, and groaned in despair. Why did she have to get involved?

He turned back a page, to the day before. Given what he knew about this boy, about his dislike of cats... yes, it would be easy to provide Kuno with a free opportunity for a quick strike, but then again that would help nobody but him. And of course, if he got caught doing such a thing, Akane would know instantly that he was a diary holder as well... Such a course helped nobody but Kuno. He was sunk, but at least he could help his princess in a small way. The only sticking point was, in order to do so would have to involve helping that pest as well. Akane was, after all, an angel that couldn't stand the sight of someone in need of assistance. She just had to help out in any way she could, and if she couldn't then she'd try her best anyway. Even though these two boys looked particularly rough, and with her arm, and she still had to do _that_? It seemed stupid. But then, bravery often did.

Still, at least there was a little breathing space this time. At least now, he could come up with a plan instead of just winging it. This time, he could get all the details planned out in advance... This time, maybe Akane would look at him and see a brave boy worthy of attention...

He intensified his glaring at the album, so engrossed in his scheming that he forgot Akane had a diary of her own.

* * *

The next day, Ranma had lost an argument with his father. He didn't like losing, but... in the end, he had only conceded because the girl showing him to school down there on the ground while he stalked the top of the fence was quite clearly insane. What other explanation could there be? She'd been attacked, viciously, and she was still going to school in spite of her arm being in a sling while the person responsible still happened to be at large. As a martial artist, he couldn't stand the idea of someone being defenceless in such a situation. Especially when he blamed himself for her injury. So here he was, being shown the way to school by his insane new friend.

Though as someone that practised his balance by walking atop a wire fence with the same manner and poise as one strolling through a garden, he might not have been in the best position to judge a person's sanity.

"What's this place like, then?" he asked. Better idle conversation than slightly awkward silence.

"It's okay. It's a school, what do you expect? Ah... but I should probably tell you that I'm not very popular right now."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, nothing much. I just kicked Kuno's ass as couple of times."

"I'm sure he had it coming," Ranma said while developing renewed plans to return to China to get away from all the crazy.

"You'll understand when you meet him. He'll want to fight you just for being with me, and if you weren't there he'd probably want to fight me sling or no sling."

Ranma bristled at that. If she was right about this guy... "Kind of a dick, then?"

"You have no idea. Watch out for his air pressure attack."

"That's his most dangerous move, is it?"

"Nope. He's got one that's way more dangerous."

Ranma stopped on the fence, and cast Akane a quizzical look. "So what is his most dangerous attack?"

"His pretentiousness."

Ranma snorted back a laugh and continued walking. "Come on, he can't possibly be that bad." Forgetting for a moment that the universe likes to disprove absolutes on the rare occasions it can...

* * *

Tatewaki Kuno stood tall and proud in front of the entrance to Furinkan High School, waiting for his true love. He was resolute, he was strong of will and of body, he was -

"Hey, Kuno's still challenging the Demon Girl..."

"What a loon!"

He was ignoring the whispers and laughter, for he knew that they were all far too simple to understand the glory that was true love. Or they were jealous. He closed his eyes in concentration... Yes, it was entirely within the realms of possibility that they were both ignorant and jealous.

And then, the chatter stopped dead. It's remarkable how much people take background noise for granted, but when it suddenly stops for whatever reason, it's every bit as noticable as a bright green bus being surfed down the street by a whale. Kuno's eyes snapped open, and he saw his fierce tigress... Walking into the school, with her arm - her delicate, powerful, wonderous arm - wrapped up in a sling. In that instant, Kuno felt the flames of wrath rise as they never had before, and they burned him from the inside out. Whoever was responsible for this - this tragedy would suffer greatly. Oh yes. He would ensure that they died by his hands, though not at first and not without a great deal of suffering and pain... Perhaps he'd use the scoundrel as a dummy on which he would practise his sword strikes, daily. Perhaps he would have them test his sister's latest concoctions. Or perhaps he could just force them to listen to father attempt to butcher a perfectly innocent ukelele on those home videos. After about an hour of that, and any man would rather dive nude into a swimming pool full of razor blades...

"Hey, Akane?" said a rather rude, crude voice that dared to intrude on his thoughts. Lifelong hate was born in that second, and he turned his attention away from his tigress - it was always painful to look away from such beauty and grace, but so often necessary - and looked upon the boy - the oaf - standing next to her. "This is that Kuno guy, right?" he continued, leaning in as if whispering conspiratorily with her.

""I am indeed Tatewaki Kuno! Who are you that addresses Akane Tendo in such an informal manner?"

"Ranma Saotome, and I must say Kuno, I'm impressed."

Kuno grinned with a dollop of smugness. "Ah, so even a worm such as yourself is capable of appreciating the magnificence that stands before you!"

"Yeah," Ranma said, with clear admiration, "I've never wanted to punch someone in the face so soon after meeting them."

Kuno spluttered in anger for a moment, and levelled his bokken at Ranma as Akane giggled in the background. "You... you dare talk to me in such a manner?" Curse the fool for embarrasing him in front of Akane like this!

"Seriously, it's uncanny," Ranma said, "Right in the mouth. Like a wrecking ball."

"Stop it!" Akane said as she sucked in breath from the laughter, "You're killing me here."

Incapable of taking any more of this humiliation, an enraged Kuno ran forward and swung his bokken... hitting only air, which sliced a gash in the ground where this Ranma Saotome scoundrel had been standing a moment ago. He could say this for the scoundrel. He had fast reaction times. But no amount of speed would save him from the righteous vengeance that was due him! Kuno spun in place, searching for the fast rascal and soon saw him. Or rather, saw his fist heading at a rather impressive velocity. And then there was but darkness.

* * *

The boredom hung in the air around him like some great invisible cloud. This was the problem he had with school really. Ranma always wound up just counting down the ticks and watching for the tocks which was marginally more interesting than the ongoing lesson. Still boring, still dull, still perfectly ordinary, and given the month he's had, it was like someone had just noticed that a car was about to break the sound barrier and decided to apply the brakes. What he really needed right now was a distraction, like... like Akane nervously glancing towards the door. Was that nervousness related to Shampoo? Possible. But Shampoo didn't seem to have much truck with doors when there was a perfectly good wall in the way. If there was anything that psychopath knew how to do, it was to make an entrance.

"Saotome!" a voice boomed from the doorway. Okay, maybe someone out to murder him was a little further out there than he'd hoped, but so long as it was someone of Kuno's skill level he could still enjoy himself a little.

"What do you want now, Kuno? Another punch in the face? Well, you're in luck. The stocks are high, and there's a sale on."

"Do not be so glib with me, Saotome! I have spoken with Nabiki Tendo, and she told me of your crime!"

Well, crap. How the hell did Nabiki find out about that incident with the cookie dough and the pelican?

"I shall break you, as you broke Akane's arm!"

"He did not break my arm, you idiot!"

"It fills my heart with joy to see you attempt to protect, as is your nature. But this man, he does not deserve it! Stand aside, and let me smite him for his transgressions!"

Akane drew herself up to her full height, and even though her arm was in a sling so she probably couldn't throw that good a punch with her other arm without jarring the aggravating the injury, every single student in class backed the hell down like she'd just grabbed an uzi out of her bag. Even Kuno seemed a litle cowed. "No. This is not the time or the place for this nonsense. You are interrupting the school day, and if you fight in here like you tried to outside, you'd almost certainly hurt the other students. But hell, I don't know why I'm telling you this, because you've not listened to a word I've said since you started this nonsense, and why break a bad habit now?"

Oh yeah. He was gonna get on with this girl just great. So long as he didn't do anything stupid and turn that mood on himself. On consideration, he gave himself until next tuesday at the absolute latest before he did just that.

"Your concern is appreciated my love," Kuno said, seemingly determined to prove Akane's last point. "But this is a fight between men! Or at least, I think that this is a man I aim to fight. It may be a monster in human guise, for all I know. Have at thee!"

"Akane's right, moron! This place is a little crowded for me! Let's take this outside."

* * *

Akane hurriedly strolled outside with a kettle, avoided as always by the other students who were still terrified of her for the same reason that some might hesitate before approaching an injured wolf. Particularly those on the right side of her gave her a wide berth, just in case they aggravated something and got due payment further down the line. Well, good. That meant she could get there quickly and help Ranma turn back to normal...If only she could've reacted quickly enough to warn him that was where the pool was – without sounding suspicious to anybody listening. That was as much his fault as it was hers, though. He'd just leaped right out of the window without care for what lay below. Sure, he could make the leap, but anything – or anyone – could have been there. It was an irresponsible action, and kind of stupid actually.

It didn't take long to find Ranma, sitting up in a tree trying to squeeze the pool water out while mumbling obscenities aimed at her new worst enemy. Kuno apparently hadn't noticed yet, for whatever reason, but he was coming this way... She whistled to catch Ranma's attention. "You really ought to look before you leap, you know."

" You really are uncute when you're sarcastic, you know that?"

"Oh? What was that? It sounds like a girl that wanted me to pour this hot water away."

"Ah! No fair! Hand it over!"

Akane made to make the throw, but winced as her arm didn't seem to like the pressure. Noticing this, Ranma hopped out of the tree and emptied the kettle over her-now him-self. "Thanks Akane," he said. "Now, I should probably get back and -"

He was interrupted by an ear piercing shriek, which caused both of them to spin around in search of its source. They soon saw it – Kuno had caught up with them. Gosh that twitch in his eye did not look remotely healthy. He really ought to get that checked. "Sao-Saotome!" Kuno screamed, "How dare you defile the innocent Akane Tendo in this manner!"

The two were confused for a moment, and then Akane realised a very important point. "Ranma," Akane said, making a very careful effort to not look at him after realising what had set Kuno off, "I think you ought to reclaim your trousers." He looked down, sheepishly and went first white and then bright red. Not that Akane could tell, since she was very studiously not looking at him right now with a bit of a blush on her own face. Even distracted, Ranma dodged Kuno's incoming strike with what he probably would not appreciate being described as catlike grace as he leaped back up the tree to retrieve his trousers.

"Be with you in a moment, Kuno!" he said, but his every word seemed to enrage his adversary more and more.

"You are no man! If you were a man, you would stand and fight me! Not run and hide up a tree!"

Well, that was a fine way to prod a sore point. Ranma leaped down like a missile, intent on leaving a deep footprint in Kuno's face but the incoming kick was deflected at the last possible moment by a well placed slash.

"Careful, Ranma! When Kuno gets going, he doesn't hold back against boys!"

"When I get going," Ranma said, his voice betraying the enjoyment of a fresh challenge "I'm not too shabby myself."

"If that was supposed to be reassuring, you're not doing a great job."

Kuno roared and charged like a raging bull. Akane had never seen him like this before, the fury seeped from him like a bad odour and she could swear it felt a little warmer than it did a few minutes ago. Ranma didn't seem to care either way. In fact, he was almost feeding off the energy and even took the time to taunt him. He dove again at Kuno, but soon backed off under the fury of his multiple strike air pressure technique. He kept his distance then, but that wouldn't help him much. Instead, he seemed satisfied just to taunt Kuno, make him come in for a more direct attack and leap out of the way. He did this three times in quick succession, making no effort to launch a counter-attack. Hold on a moment... there was something deliberate in the way Ranma was leaping around. Almost as if he was leading Kuno on a pre-determined path. Could he know...

Akane sucked in the steadily warming air and her eyes flew wide open. Kuno's anger, his strange calm and controlled nature... and leading his opponent around by the nose... If he knew _that_ then there was a risk he was a diary holder. If he was a diary holder... she didn't stand a chance. He had to have figured out something was up last night as they spoke. No wonder he was sticking around! He was going to take his time, search for her diary. He was going to destroy it, first chance he got. He was... either leading Kuno into the biggest damn spiral in history or towards the swimming pool.

"Justice will be delivered, Saotome!"

"Ah, shut your stupid mouth before you make the world a dumber place you simple minded moron."

Kuno made one final lunge which Ranma sidestepped in a manner akin to a matador. He hurried away from the inevitable large splash, back to where Akane was standing. "How was that?" Ranma asked. "Enjoy the show?"

"What, humiliating Kuno in front of the entire school? I just wish you'd given him a proper ass kicking."

"Nah, this sort of thing will hurt him worse than any good kicking. This has been a damn fine day, so... let's just head off home, alright?"

"Sure. But you do know he's going to keep on trying to attack us. He's pretty stubborn..."

"He's not so hot. Ow!"

"No big deal, eh? I did warn you about his air pressure attack."

He rubbed his arm where she'd poked him, and glared back at her. "Yeah. You did. Still uncute poking me like that. You coming?"

* * *

"Wait! Take me with you!"

"Bye bye, Uchan! I'll miss you!"

"No! Stop! Come back!"

"Hey, Ukyo? Wake up!"

She sprung up in a cold sweat. That dream again. That damned dream! Hang on, someone had woken her up... And there was a silhouette of a figure sitting outside her tent, which took her a moment to properly identify. "What is it, Hibiki? And it better be good!"

"I was just thinking," he said.

"Oh, you poor dear. I bet it hurt." Nearby, an assortment of unseen woodland creatures collapsed from sarcasm overload.

Not that Ryoga seemed to notice. " You said that bastard Ranma betrayed you when you were both kids. Right?"

Yes. That was what she had said, more or less. And _thanks so very much_ for the reminder. Just the very thing she needed to hear after being woken up in the middle of the god-damn night after that nightmare. She nodded, and grunted an affirmative while plotting on dropping the stupid pig off at a butcher's once they were done with Ranma.

"I was thinking... Maybe you shouldn't tell him who you are when we get there tomorrow."

That sounded like a good idea. Apart from the parts which were utterly nonsensical; ie all of it. "I'm sorry, what? Why?"

"Make him figure out who you are. I mean, you've spent all this time thinking about what you were gonna do to him when you got your hands on him. Right? So... did he spend any of that time thinking of you at all?"

"That's..." she blinked and said something she didn't think she would ever say after meeting this clown just recently. "That's a good idea, Hibiki. Maybe you're not quite as dumb as I thought."

"Yeah, I get that sometimes. You get back to sleep, we got a big day ahead of us."

She settled down as the shadow moved off towards Ryoga's tent. It was a sobering thought, but maybe Hibiki was right. It was a long time ago, and there was every chance that Ranma hadn't given her any further thought since then. That being true, he deserved everything he got come tomorrow afternoon. Her head hit the pillow, and she reluctantly returned to her nightmares...

If she'd been paying attention instead of falling asleep, she might have noticed the shadow remove a wig, revealing long, flowing hair which was tied up into a hairstyle she'd last seen in a mirror. And if she had stayed awake just two minutes more, she might have heard her own voice whisper "Hey, jackass. Wake up..."

* * *

Dairies Database:

1: Akane Tendo: [Normal Girl Diary]

5: Gosunkugi:: [Secret Love Album]

_10: Shampoo: [Hunter Diary]_ **Eliminated**

Author's Notes

Took a bit longer than I liked to get through this chapter, but here it is. Two new diary holders will appear during the course of this arc. I'll just hold off on naming who for now.


End file.
